The Victim
by Bittersweetbloodbaby
Summary: AU Spike’s the Big Bad, but Buffy’s just an ordinary girl, aka, lunchables. How one of the most powerful agents of evil developed a soft spot for a certain high school girl.
1. Chapter 1

_AU- Spike's the Big Bad, but Buffy's just an ordinary girl, aka, lunchables. How one of the most powerful agents of evil developed a soft spot for a certain high school girl._

**This is a little side project I started while watching FX's reruns. I will always think it's incrediblehow Spike fell in love with Buffy, not because she's the slayer, but because she's human. The slayer side of her could identify with his powers, his lonliness, and his actions. But thehuman in her made everyone wonder why she wasn't one of many- before her, Spike killed and raped girls just like her. **

**My idea is to write a story where the slayer aspect isn't involved. Buffy is an ordinary high school girl who knows nothing about Magic and evil. You can like it or hate it, I don't really care. I'm not writing this because I want people to like it- I have LCA and Pennames for that. I'm writing this for me and the few out there who are equaly interested in the pairing of human-Buffy and monster-Spike. I still appreciate reveiws though, and I'm grateful for people who take the time to read andcomment onanything I've written. **

Disclaimer: Someday I'm going to write a book or a screen play. And then I'm going to go online, post a fanfiction about my story, and get to say I OWN IT! Until then, Joss wants his characters back.

"Willow and I are going to brainstorm ideas for our English project, watch a Brat Pack movie, and go to bed. Honest, Mom." Buffy Summers smiled convincingly, trying not to blink. They know you're lying if you blink.

"I swear, Buffy. Do you think I was born yesterday?"

"Um, no." Joyce sighed.

"I've heard all this before Buffy."

"I know you have, and that's why I'm actually going to go over to Willow's, brainstorm ideas for our English project, watch a Brat Pack movie, and go to bed."

"So if I call Willow's house, you will answer?"

"Yep."

"And if I drive by The Brass, I won't see you on or around the premises?"

"It's The Bronze, and yes."

"And if I find out you're lying, you're perfectly okay with whatever heinous punishments I can come up with, no matter how much they detract from your social life?"

"Absolutely." Joyce looked strained as she rolled her eyes.

"I WILL be checking in."

"Thanks Mom!" Buffy ran off to get ready as her mother smiled sadly. Buffy was a good kid, but she could be a bit of a discipline problem at times.

Upstairs, Buffy dialed Willow's phone number as she threw her pajamas, toothbrush, and tomorrow's ensemble into a duffle bag.

"Hey, Will? She bought it! I'll be over in a few hours to drop my stuff off, okay?"

"Gotcha, see you then." Both quickly hung up before Buffy's mother could come looking for her.

"Tonight is gonna be so cool!" She tossed the phone onto her bed as she headed to her closet to pick out a top for tonight.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"If I were gay, I'd totally do you. That's how good you look right now." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Willow blushed. The shy redhead had a tendency to speak without thinking, and then immediately realize what she'd said and attempt to take it back. "Uh, but only if you were there too, and-"

"I get it, Will. And thanks."

"You're welcome. You really do look pretty." Buffy moved back from her friend's mirror and examined herself. She was wearing a little purple skirt with a teensy lilac shirt, and the two of them had just succeeded in curling her hair and piling it on top of her head.

"Okay, let's go over the plan. If my mom calls,"

"You're in the bathroom. Or talking to my mom."

"And you'll leave the backdoor unlocked so I can get in during the wee hours of the morning."

"Right. Unless, you know…you end up staying with Riley tonight."

"I don't really think I'm ready for that yet."

"Well then, the door will be open per your request. When are you leaving?"

"We're meeting there at ten."

"Perfect. Plenty of time for a slice of pre-date pizza." Linking arms, the two headed for Willow's kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, Buffy was leaving Willow's small suburban home, and walking the streets to the popular all-ages nightclub. Her mom didn't like her walking around by herself after dark, but Buffy's self-defense classes had come in handy more than once, and she no longer feared whatever might be lurking in the shadows.

If she took her time, she'd be fashionably late. She wanted to see Riley as soon as possible, but didn't want to appear too eager. She was a senior at Sunnydale High, and Riley was a freshman at UC Sunnydale. They'd been friends for a few years, but Riley had taken her to the senior prom at the end of last year, and since then, they'd been a couple. Tonight would not only be their five-month anniversary, but the first night in weeks that Riley didn't have anything on his schedule. College, ROTC, and his job at the paintball field didn't leave much time for Buffy.

There was no way she was letting Joyce's rules get in her way tonight. As soon as Riley had suggested the night out, the wheels in Buffy's head had been turning, plotting how to evade her mother and her curfew. So Willow was covering for her.

She increased her speed, deciding not to care if she seemed too eager. Riley was her first real boyfriend, the kind who did more than take you to a few movies. Over the summer they'd gone to the beach a few times, watched the sun set and rise from her porch, he cooked for her, and he called her all the time, just to hear her voice. There was no way they couldn't be madly in love with a relationship like that.

Suddenly, she heard voices coming from one of the back alleys she was passing on her way to The Bronze. Two male voices, one of which didn't sound happy.

"Spike, I told you to have the du Lac Manuscript in hand when you welcomed us to town." What kind of name was Spike?

"You didn't give me enough time, Peaches." What kind of name was Peaches?

"I will not be spoken to like that, you insolent underling." Wow, Peaches has an attitude.

"And I will not be spoken to LIKE an insolent underling. I left the little quatrumvirate years ago, I have my OWN underlings now. I don't take orders anymore, Peaches. I give them." The other man was beginning to sound just as mad now. Buffy stopped, her eyes wide. It may not have been any of her business, but for some reason, she had to know how this ended. Stepping backwards so she was completely concealed in shadows, she held her breath as she listened.

"You told me Dru was sick, and the bloody cure was up my alley. I responded with 'Alright mate, you bring the birdie, I'll bring the book.' You didn't tell me when you'd show up, or that it was supposed to be some dictatorship thing." Spike had quite the sexy accent. Even though, judging from the conversation, he was part of the mafia or something.

"Then what did you think?"

"That my old mates were callin' in a favor?"

"Since when do you do anything without a price?"

"Dru may have left me, Angelus, but I'm still love's bitch." Angelus? Had someone new entered the alley? And man, did Spike sound bitter. Apparently Drusilla did a number on the poor guy. Who was probably in the mafia. And therefore a criminal. Who she shouldn't be feeling sorry for.

"Don't turn this into one of your sob stories, Spike."

"Well, she did leave me."

"When's the earliest you can get the book?"

"For a fungus demon, mind you." Unfamiliar with mafia terminology, Buffy wrinkled her brow as the conversation continued.

"Spike, she can barely get out of bed. We can stand here until dawn, talking about your misfortunes, or we can discuss how to make her better. Which, being love's bitch and all, I'm sure you want to do." Spike sighed.

"Give me a week, I'll get it. Then you take the girls and clear out."

"This town ain't big enough for me too, huh?"

"Actually, it's not. I'm the resident Big Bad. If you wanna stick around, be my guest, but I'm in charge."

"One week." Peaches started to walk away and Buffy flattened herself against the wall, but Spike stopped him.

"What's in it for me?"

"Pardon, Spike?"

"Sounds like you were planning on this being a paying gig when you rang me up."

"Yes, but I was also planning on kicking you around your crypt a bit. But we can do this your way. Thanks for the favor, mate." Peaches left the alley, smirking. He came into view a few feet past Buffy as he walked into the light cast from an upstairs window. Suddenly, he stopped.

"I can smell you, cutie. Be glad I'm full." He continued walking as Buffy's eyes widened. Was he talking to her? She waited for Spike to leave, but he didn't come out. When she finally got the courage to peek around the corner and check if the coast was clear, no one was there. The only other way out appeared to be a fire-escape ladder, cementing the mafia theory deeper in her mind.

Continuing on her way, this time much quicker than before, she moved towards The Bronze again.

By the time she arrived, Riley was standing at the bar with an expectant smile on his face.

"Hey there you." She wrapped her arms around his solid neck and planted a light kiss on his lips.

"Hey. Been waiting long?"

"Got here about ten minutes ago. I was aiming to be cool and show up after you, but I got a little too excited at the prospect of seeing you." Buffy grinned.

"You're perfect." Taking his hand, she led him towards the dance floor.

"What's new with you?" Riley whispered in her ear as they began to sway back and forth together.

"Nothing much. Doing my trig, sneaking out of the house, eavesdropping on organized crime, the usual."

"Run that last one by me again?" Buffy sighed.

"I took the back way here, and I overheard these two guys named Spike and Peaches talking in an alleyway about some…" The du Lac Manuscript. Last week she'd been in detention for slapping Cordelia Chase, and she'd served it in the library with Mr. Giles. He'd made her take inventory of his back room, where the rare, teacher-permission-only books lived. The du Lac Manuscript had been one of the older books in the room, and it smelled very leathery. The name had intrigued her, but Giles had been watching her, so she couldn't find out what was on the book's many worn pages. Spike was supposed to get that book for Peaches.

"They were talking about a book at my school! Peaches wants it because Dru is sick, and Spike's going to get it for him even though Dru left him for a moldy guy, and I know Giles, and he's NEVER going to sell that book, so Spike's going to steal it, which makes sense cause he's a mafia guy and all!" Riley gaped at her.

"Buffy, are you feeling okay?"

"And when Peaches was leaving, it was so freaky, I was hiding and he walked past and didn't even look at me, and said he could smell me and I was lucky he was full. Weird, huh?"

"Buffy, I'm not sure I like the idea of you hanging out in alleys, spying on criminals."

"Relax, I'm fine. But it was really weird, I wonder if Spike's actually going to steal the du Lac Manuscript."

"It sounds like you've had quite the taxing night. How about a drink?" Realizing Riley wasn't up for speculating about her conversation she'd overheard, she sighed and allowed him to fetch her a soda. But she couldn't stop thinking about what she'd listened in on.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Wake up snoozy, we've got waffles." Buffy rolled over and found herself on Willow's floor, wrapped up in the other girl's old Little Mermaid sheets.

"What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty. Your mom called and said she wanted you home by eleven, so it's time to get up." As Buffy slowly rose to her feet and blinked, Willow looked at her expectantly.

"So? How was last night?"

"It was nice. We danced and talked and danced and talked and danced and talked until like three. Then he walked me here, because he didn't want me to be out by myself so late."

"Aww," Willow gushed at Riley's sweetness, but Buffy wasn't as thrilled. She liked Riley's gentlemanly side and all, but she wasn't a child. She didn't need to be coddled. She could handle anything that wanted to hurt her by herself, and if she couldn't, she doubted Riley would be much help against whatever it was.

"So, did my mom call?"

"Once. My Dad got the phone because I was in my room at the time, and I just shouted to him that we were busy, so he told your mom 'they're indisposed at the moment', and I guess that was enough."

"So, I'm unbusted?"

"I'd say that's a fair assessment."

"This is so cool, I can't wait to tell Xander." Willow popped four Eggo's into the toaster as Buffy retrieved the syrup from the pantry.

"Oh my God, I forgot to tell you!"

"What is it? Did something happen with Riley?" Willow asked suggestively.

"No, but this guy named Spike is probably going to rob the school library." She recounted the entire ordeal to Willow, her friend listening in silence.

"He said he could smell you?"

"I'm pretty sure that was directed at me."

"Buffy, that doesn't sound too safe."

"I'm fine, Will. I can't wait to see the look on Giles's face when one of his precious books is stolen."

"You're gonna let them go through with this?"

"As opposed to what? I can't go to the police because my mom will want to know how I found out, and in addition to my not being where I should have been, I was in a place she'd totally ground me if she found out I was in."

"So we're going to stand aside and let the mob get away with this? Buffy, what if Giles doesn't like the fact that they're taking his property? They could hurt him or something."

"Who cares. No one would miss that old crank- he just sits behind his desk, fondling his books."

"Fondling?"

"Yea, my entire detention he was reading this one, and he was like stroking the cover, and turning every page slowly and dramatically. It was getting pretty dirty."

"Okay, mental note: no more reading." They took their waffles from the toaster and began to smother them in syrup.

"Do you really think we should turn them in?" Buffy asked a few minutes later, obviously beginning to feel guilty. If the mafia hurt Giles, it'd be her fault. Could she go to jail for withholding information?

"I don't know. Are you sure they were serious? I mean, Peaches and Spike don't really sound like mob-y names. Maybe they were talking about something completely different, and you just thought they were plotting to kill our librarian and make off with one of his rarest books. They didn't come out and say 'kill', did they?"

"No."

"Or 'steal'?"

"No, but it was suspicious just the same."

"How much time did you say Spike had?"

"A week. I'm starting to think you're right, a mob boss named Peaches kinda kills the whole thing."

"But if anything weird happens to the library, we tell someone, right?"

"Right. And lucky me, I have detention all this week in the library."

"Well Cordelia still won't look directly at you, so I'd say it's worth it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Francesca Jones – Thanks. Your stuff rocks too**. **It's cool that this site can do that; people can follow each other's writings. Hope to hear from you again soon here or over in the GG section. **

"Would it kill you to help?" Buffy grumbled as she eyed the librarian who had been staring at her for the past twenty minutes.

"I'm assuring myself that you aren't going to make off with any of my property."

"If these books are yours, why don't you just keep them at your house? Why keep them in the library?"

"If I told you, it'd defeat the purpose."

"Whatever." Buffy resumed wiping the leather volumes with a cloth, wrinkling her nose at how dirty they were. "God, how old are these?"

"Older than you."

"Fine. Be cryptic. I just want this detention to end."

"Maybe you should not have struck Miss Chase."

"Have you ever met the girl?"

"Many times, however I realize that violence isn't the answer."

"Says the man who keeps a copy of Demonic Vengeance throughout the Ages on hand," Buffy pointed out, holding up the book.

"Some of us have interests outside of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Miss Summers."

"Regardless, you are still one creepy guy."

"…Who can prolong your detention period if you insist on treating me with anything less than respect. I won't punish you for the 'creepy guy' comment, because I've heard it before, but I recommend your realize who you're speaking to in the future." Buffy muttered under her breath.

She came to the next book, a large, black volume with a pentagram on the front of it.

"Do you just have these because you're interested, or do you practice Wicca?" Giles looked down, a shadow of a smile on his face.

"What do you think?"

"Why does it matter what I think if you do or don't?"

"Truth is more what others perceive than actual fact." Buffy started at him blankly.

"Uh, no. It's not." Giles chuckled as she corrected him.

"Maybe if you shared my experiences, you would have a broader view of the world." Buffy went back to cleaning the cover, thinking about what he'd just said. It didn't make any sense, but his accent made him sound smarter than her regular teachers.

Accent…

Spike. She remembered Spike's rough British accent, and looked around sharply. She didn't have a clue as to what he looked like, but she didn't see anyone else in the library.

"Do you let students look at these books?" Buffy asked a few minutes later, once the panic had subsided.

"The idea behind the back room is for students only to have access with a teacher's permission. Nothing a student would have any interest in is kept back there, so I haven't had any requests in all my years of working here. The teachers just accept that it's my private storage area, while some of the rowdier students have tried to break in for the fun of it. It's well secured, however." A glint came into his eye, as Buffy wondered what might be used to protect Magic books. Would it be something Spike could get around?

"Because I have a friend who's interested in studying Wicca. She's been going to a study group for it, and I've seen the books she has on it, but they're nothing compared to your stash here." Giles looked incredulous at the thought of anyone who associated themselves with the blonde cheerleader being interested in his hobby. "Willow Rosenberg, you probably know who she is." Giles did know who she was- in fact, she'd been eyeing his storage room anxiously since her freshman year.

"I'll keep an eye out for her. While my books are nothing a beginner should be bothering with, perhaps I can offer a spot of guidance." Buffy smiled at the librarian's offer to help her friend. It weirded her out a little that the strange old bachelor was willingly engaging in conversation, but it beat dusting the books in silence.

"So, what's in the du Lac Manuscript?" she casually asked later. He wasn't lecturing, so she dared to question why Spike would want the tattered old hardback.

Giles's demeanor changed instantly.

"Why do you ask that?" he spat cautiously, narrowing his eyes. She shrugged, deciding to tell him. He was nicer than she'd imagined, and it would be her fault if he got Italian-Jobbed.

"I heard some guys talking about it, and I remembered seeing it here on Friday."

"Who mentioned it?" He got out of his chair and approached her slowly, making her shrink back in her chair.

"I didn't see their faces. Two men named Spike and Peaches. I think they were code names now."

"Spike?" Giles suddenly looked fearful. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself. "I thought she left him…why would he want the book, if not for her? Has something happened to him? Or is Angelus back?"

"Oh yea, there was something about 'Angelus' mentioned too." He spun towards her.

"Where did you hear this?"

"In an alley near The Bronze," she answered, regretting telling him. He looked a wee bit upset at the news.

"And they want it?"

"Spike's going to steal it this week." Giles groaned.

"Why didn't you come forward with this earlier?" Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Do they know you overheard?"

"Peaches might have. Do you know who they are?"

"I don't know who Peaches is. I am very aware of Spike's identity, however."

"Are they in the mafia?" Giles looked taken aback, then started to laugh.

"No, Buffy. They are not in the mafia." It was the first time he'd ever used her first name. He continued with his muttering, this time so frenzied she couldn't distinguish what he was saying. He finished talking to himself, visibly decided something, and turned towards her again.

"Buffy, I'm going to tell you a piece of information that I'd like you not to repeat. Not to Miss Rosenberg, not to your mother, not to anyone." Puzzled, Buffy agreed to keep quiet.

"The men you heard talking are in a way practitioners of dark Magic. The one named Spike is a particularly dangerous man who has threatened Sunnydale for a long time. I'm obviously not going to tell you everything that's going on, but if Spike finds out you were spying on him, nothing good can come of it."

"I take self-defense, Mr. Giles," Buffy soothed, as if speaking to a younger child. The librarian removed his glasses and stared directly at her.

"If you see him, run screaming. Do not try to engage him in combat or conversation. He's a murderer." Her jaw dropped, but she was unable to form words. It had been fine to speculate about Spike's being a murderer and a thief with Willow, but she was now hearing from an informed source that Spike was indeed a criminal and a killer. "He looks a bit like the rock star Billy Idol- bleached hair, lots of black. Once again, if you see him, get out of there. Preferably into the sunshine." She looked at him quizzically, but Giles took the book she's been absentmindedly wiping off. "Go home, Buffy. And be careful."

"But my detention's not supposed to be over yet."

"Miss Summers," he warned, and she took the hint.

"Bye Mr. Giles. Good luck with Spike and Peaches."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"How was detention, sweetie?" Joyce asked as Buffy came in the house.

"Musty. Those books haven't been dusted in ages. What's for dinner?"

"Leftovers." Buffy grunted at the tepid food already on the table. As she sat down to eat with her mother, Giles's words came back to her. The entire thing was undoubtedly strange- get out into the sunlight? How would that help against someone who was trying to kill her? But he'd sounded so sure of himself, and genuinely scared for her safety.

Maybe Giles wasn't such a wacko after all. I mean, she had proof that Spike existed. And he wanted the du Lac Manuscript. Details from the alley and Giles's warning were lining up in her head. Maybe she should avoid dark side streets for a while at least…

"Buffy? Are you listening?" She looked up into her mom's face.

"Sorry, I kinda spaced out there."

"I asked you how much longer you were going to be in detention."

"Until Thursday."

"And you'll be helping Mr. Giles the entire time?"

"Yea."

"I've never heard you talk about him before the whole Cordelia-thing. What's he like?"

"He's a lone wolf. None of the other teachers talk to him."

"Divorced? Widowed?"

"I don't think he ever found a woman who could put up with him."

"And how old is he?"

"Your age or something. He's really creepy, but he's smart. And he has a pretty nice accent. English."

"Really." Buffy noticed the interested look on her mother's face.

"Don't even go there, Mom."

"I'm a sucker for accents, Buffy."

"Yea, that explains Dad."

"Your father may have been as American as apple pie, but before I met him, I dated this guy named Pablo."

"No way," Buffy joked, enjoying the girl-talk they were apparently having. It was nice when her mother slipped out of maternal-mode, and just talked to Buffy. It didn't happen often, but it was nice.

"The most beautiful eyes, the sexiest voice. Then I met Hank, and it was more of a this-is-long-term thing. I never thought I'd be with Pablo forever. But it's nice to remember my first love." Buffy sighed, thinking of Riley.

"You're thinking of your own first love, aren't you?"

"Riley and I might be long-term. Never know."

"Please. If there's one thing this divorce has taught me, it's that us Summers women need a little excitement. Hank wasn't my Mr. Right. I know you love Riley, but I can't picture him as my son-in-law." Buffy felt slighted, and returned to eating. "Oh, honey. I didn't mean anything negative, I just meant that you shouldn't get your hopes up and start planning the reception."

"Okay Mom." And with that, they were back to being mother and daughter.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

True to her word, she didn't tell Willow about what Giles had said. She wouldn't have told her mother anyway, but Willow knew about Spike and Peaches already. It felt like she was betraying her friend to report how boring and uneventful detention had been, but Giles was lurking around these hallways. She wasn't going to anger anyone who might or might not be a practicing warlock. So she attended all her classes, did her work, and constantly looked over her shoulder for Billy Idol.

The day passed quickly enough, and before she knew it, Buffy was back in the library. Taking the dust rag Giles handed to her, she tried to get more information out of him.

"Please, just tell me why Peaches wants the du Lac Manuscript. Is it some kind of medical book?"

"Would you keep your voice down, stupid girl?"

"Why? You think something might be lurking in the reverence section?" Giles was not amused.

"It's none of your concern, Miss Summers. Others will take care of it."

"Others including you?"

"Yes. Now less talking, more cleaning." Buffy cleaned, but she still grumbled at Giles, trying to get information out of him.

"They said something about Drew. Does that help?"

"Who's Drew?"

"Spike's ex."

"Ah, the mad one. I suspected as much."

"What did you suspect? I'm the one who risked my life getting this information for you, the least you can do is explain to me what it means."

"You did not get information for me, you were simply in the wrong place at the right time."

"But I can help! I can identify voices."

"Not going to help, Buffy."

"Please just tell me something. I hate knowing someone knows something I don't."

"Then why don't you pay attention in class?"

"That's different. School stuff is 3 AM infomercials. This is a prime time drama." Giles didn't budge. "I'm gonna keep bugging you, so you might as well tell me." He sighed.

"What do you want to know?" he finally asked.

"Who's Drew?"

"I believe you're referring to Drusilla the Mad. She's a beautiful but insane woman who's been growing weaker and weaker for years by now."

"And how will the du Lac Manuscript help?"

"The du Lac Manuscript is a collection of, among other things, potions and remedies."

"So Peaches is going to cure Drusilla with the du Lac Manuscript."

"I've never heard of Peaches, but I have a few ideas as to who he may be."

"And how do you know all this?"

"Excuse me?"

"How do you know so much about Spike and Drusilla and the people they hang with?"

"It's my job, Buffy."

"What are you? What are they?"

"I've said too much already."

"No, don't cut me off!"

"Buffy, please please please just finish cleaning and go home. If you get involved in this, you can never back out."

"But I'm confused. Nothing about that conversation I overheard was normal, and then you're all supernatural and you know stuff, and I don't like being in the dark."

"Then stay in the sunlight, as I told you to."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Giles grabbed her at that moment, throwing a hand over her mouth.

"Quiet." Buffy listened, but couldn't hear anything. "Breaking glass. Not in the library, down the hall."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN- Please excuse Buffy's damsel-in-distress thing. Up until now, she's never seen a demon or a vampire. I'd act this way if I saw people with bumpies too. And Sixpence None the Richer owns the lyrics. **

"How the hell can you hear something like that?"

"Language, Summers. And perhaps my senses are a bit more attuned than yours. Please be quiet." He half dragged Buffy out of the room's center, towards the check-out desk.

"I don't understand. It's day time," he said half to himself.

"Uh, it's uber cloudy out, in case you haven't noticed. It's like night, practically," Buffy pointed out as she indicated the window to their left. Giles groaned. He peeked out the book-return slot as Buffy tried to squeeze in.

"I want to know what's happening too," she hissed. Giles looked at the ceiling.

"Having you here right now is fate's cruel joke."

"Maybe you should have been nicer that time when I forgot to return that book on the French Revolution."

"When was that?"

"Sophomore year."

"Did I ever get it back?"

"Yes. It may have been a tad late, but I returned it. It's not like anyone else wanted it all year."

"I'd love to continue this debate, Miss Summers, but there's someone in the building with us."

"Maybe it's the janitor. You know Mick, he's real clumsy. I bet he broke the window by accident."

"You be quiet, or I'm putting a shut-up spell on you."

"What would the school board say about that?" Giles rubbed his temples.

Someone threw open the library doors, and a group of people padded into the room. Buffy saw the harsh lights of the library glinting off a bleached-blonde head.

"Is that Spike?" The look Giles shot her made her want to curl up and hide. But even though she'd spoken, none of the men glanced her way.

"It'll be well-hidden, boys," Spike's voice boomed throughout the library. That was definitely the man from the alley. "Spread out and search. You pick up a little recreational reading, you answer to me stake." Steak? Buffy's head was swimming.

Spike wandered around as his 'boys' (tall, foreboding-looking men with greasy hair and a punk wardrobe) sifted through the aisles. The blonde approached where Buffy had been working, and saw the spell books stacked on the floor.

"Looks like Rupert left us some breadcrumbs," he said with a leer as he held up each individual book, and then tossed it over his shoulder when it wasn't the desired book. He looked up, and his eyes fell upon the back of the room, and the door marked PRIVATE. His black duster swirling around him, he moved towards it with the grace and stealth of a cat.

His hand touched the doorknob, and Buffy thought she saw a flash of pink emanate from the door.

"Rupert, Rupert. What games are you playing, mate?" He leaned his head in slowly, and immediately yanked it out. "Got ourselves a M'Fashnik, gents!" A roar sounded from the room as the men ran towards the source of the roar. Buffy noticed they'd donned masks that caused their faces to look scrunched-up. She couldn't see how the masks were staying on their faces, but they had to be masks. What else could they be?

Spike backed up as a creature emerged from the backroom. No, not a creature…a man in a scaly green mask. That was all it was. A really good mask. She gulped as Giles opened his arms, and let her crawl inside them.

The thing charged Spike, who laughed like a madman as he swung something shiny at him.

"Rupert hired you to protect his precious books in case a baddie came calling, didn't he, poofter?" The thing growled in response. Buffy squeezed her eyes tightly shut, feeling like a little kid afraid of the monster under her bed. Only instead of hiding under the bed, this monster was out in the open, making its presence known. She dared to peek out through the drop again, and saw that Spike had donned his own 'mask'. That was enough for her. She started crying.

Giles awkwardly comforted her as he watched the fight anxiously. Buffy heard crashes and growling, lots of growling. It seemed like it was coming from all the men/monsters now, in addition to the Umfashionick thing. She felt herself leave the ground as Giles hoisted her into his arms, and ran off while the fight held everyone's attention.

Giles didn't stop running until he got Buffy to the office. It was closed and dark by now, but there was still a sofa for her to sink down on.

"Stay here. Do not leave this spot. I'll come back for you," he ordered, before dashing off again. So frightened by the afternoon's events, Buffy could only muster one thought: 'Giles runs fast for an old geezer'.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Buffy awoke with a start and looked at her watch. For a second she believed the whole thing had been a dream, but then she saw the time and her surroundings. She'd dozed off for a whole ten minutes. It did nothing to calm her nerves.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She hated crying. She needed to get to the bathroom, and wash her face of any tell-teal tear signs. Ignoring Giles's warning, she headed for the ladies room. On the way there, however, she was stopped as she saw one of Spike's boys running down the hallway. She ducked into a classroom and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. They'd moved out of the library.

"From dust you are, to dust you shall return." Giles? Buffy chanced brining her eye to the crack of light in the door, as she saw Giles standing next to a water fountain, holding a…crossbow? They still had those? That was too weird. The man she'd seen running screamed, and Giles moved towards her door.

"Buffy, I told you not to leave the office," he said, anger evident in his voice. She looked up at him, and tried to shut the door. "Stop it Buffy, I need you to go back."

"Why-why can't I just go home?" she sniffed. It was strange seeing the weird-but-passive librarian holding a weapon of any sort.

"It's clear to me that I have a bit more explaining to do. Please go back, Buffy. I can't protect you and fight them off."

"So you're not on their side? You're one of the good guys?" He chuckled a little.

"Yes, I'm one of the good guys. I'll explain later, Buffy. Hide in the office." Buffy nodded and scurried off past a pile of dust as Spike rounded a corner.

"That was mighty clever, Rupert. I just keep underestimating you, eh?"

"It will be your undoing, Bloody," Giles snarled.

"I must say, I was surprised. I knew you dabbled in magic, but I wasn't entirely prepared when I discovered who it was that possessed my dark book. Once again, kudos to the Protector." Their voices floated on to Buffy as she continued walking. What was a Protector? "My men have the book, so you can give up now."

"You're not men, you're monsters," Giles retorted.

"Roses by other names. I got what I came for, but you depleted half my crew, so I don't quite think it fair that you keep breathing." Buffy reached the office and hid under a table, the closing door shutting off their voices.

She waited about twenty minutes before Giles came to get her.

"It's all over, Buffy. The got the book, but they're gone now."

"Did you kill them?" she asked, like they were talking about spiders.

"Some of them."

"Then you're a killer too." She shrunk away from him.

"They weren't human, Buffy. They were Vampires." She said nothing, than laughed.

"Good one, Giles. You're even crazier than I thought."

"Buffy, you saw their faces. You saw the demon. Something very powerful is happening right under your nose, but you've always ignored it, because you don't think these beings exist." She didn't come out from under the table.

Pulling up a chair inches from her, Giles sighed.

"You saw some scary things tonight. I guess I owe it to you to tell you what I know." He took a deep breath. "Yesterday you asked if I was practiced Wicca. I do. In fact, I'm one of the select few who have been granted the title of Protector. There are some bad things out there. Things that want to hurt people like you. My family and a few others have dedicated our entire lives to fighting evil such as Spike. We're not superheroes, just men and women with a gift. As Sunnydale's Protector, I watch the groups of demons that live nearby, and defend their prey when I can. It's not much, because I'm so outnumbered. But I can fight off a pack of Vampires.

"They got the du Lac Manuscript. A loss, but they didn't take any of the books containing spells to bring about the end of the world. And you're safe, which is what matters."

"Why does it matter if I'm safe? I mean, if you're not screwing with my head, I hardly think I matter when there's books for the end of the world."

"Protecting innocents like you is my call, Buffy. I'm glad I was able to keep you alive." With these words, Buffy's pride melted away. She crawled into Giles's arms again, feeling like a little girl with her Daddy.

"So," she said a few minutes later, when the tears had stopped falling. "They're gone? Spike left?"

"Yes, Buffy."

"And they're not coming back?"

"I don't see why they should."

"How…how do you stand up to a Vampire? They're not human, they're creatures. Monsters, like you said."

"Vampires cannot go into sunlight. Holy Water and Crosses burn them, wood can kill them if it pierces their heart, and there is no reasoning with them. I have no inclination to think you will ever need to know any of these things, but they exist, and they live in Sunnydale. In the event that you need this knowledge, you have it, although I pray that day never comes. Do you have any more questions?"

"Do they really drink blood?"

"Yes. It's cannibalistic, but they do."

"Do they have reflections?" She was scared, but she was strangely fascinated as the tried to recall all vampire myths she knew.

"I don't think so. I'm no expert, but I've come across a few in my day. I mainly just chant spells against the demons that wander towards the school, because the tax payers brilliantly decided to build on top of an ancient burial ground for dark leaders, many of whom can probably be resurrected by some means or another, not to mention an evil portal. Tonight was interesting. Made me feel twenty years younger." Buffy laughed lightly, drying her eyes again.

"Is it safe for me to go home?"

"Take a public route, and walk quickly." She got up to leave. "And Buffy? My demon and the Vampires did a number on the library. You can serve the rest of your detentions helping me clean up." She rolled her eyes as she left the building, her head spinning.

So, monsters under the bed were real. And she should carry a cross with her wherever she went. And old Mr. Giles was shooting Vampires and hiring rent-a-demons. This was too weird even to be a dream.

She moved along the sidewalks, wishing the streetlights were on. It wasn't late enough for them yet, but the ominous clouds were making it certainly dark enough.

She was skittish tonight. Normally she walked with her head high and her waist swaying, letting all who were interested know that Buffy Summers, homecoming queen and cheerleading co-captain, was there. Now she looked over her shoulder and took longer, faster steps.

The faster she walked, the more scared she let herself become. Her pulse quickened and her breathing sunk as she whipped her head back and forth, attempting vision in all directions as once. She finally slowed to take a breath. If anything, she realized, she was just encouraging more people to look at the jumpy girl. Play it calm, Buffy. Cool as a cucumber.

She resumed her proud, waist-swaying strut, but only after picking up a fallen branch from the sidewalk. She cracked it over her knee, and ran her thumb over the splintered edges. 'Wood can kill them if it pierces their heart.' Now all she had to do was get home, dig up her cross necklace, and wear it for the rest of her life. That way, she'd be safe.

She was almost at Revello Drive. It was just one street over, past the tiny playground she would have played on if she'd grown up in Sunnydale. The playground was a square of those little woodchips surrounded by broken wooden beams the kids liked to play 'tightrope' on. There was a swing set with three regular swings and a kiddie swing, a teeter-totter, and a twisted wooden structure serving something to climb. It had ladders and slides hanging off it, a second story, and a metal steering wheel. One of the slides had broken last year, and the city had replaced it with a bright orange plastic enclosed slide. It was the only modification that had been made in years, and the plastic tube stood out against the rusting metal of the other playground equipment.

No children were around, probably because of the light outside. It appeared to be completely deserted, so she slowed and walked towards it. She could see the back of her house from here, and the area was well-lit anyway. She needed some time to think before she got home and hid under her covers. She sank down onto one of the swings, and let the movement carry her back and forth a few times. When it finally stopped moving, she reluctantly began to push against the ground with her feet, and soon as flying back and forth. It felt good to soar like that. It helped take her mind off the terrifying night she'd had.

She let a laugh rip from her throat. She hadn't been on a swing set in years. It made her feel younger, happier, safer. She'd deal with the whole demon thing. She'd managed to go two whole years in Sunnydale without ever running into anything, and she could just go back to her normal, oblivious life now. Which she would do, when she finally got off the swings.

Not happening anytime soon. She pulled her hair out from its ponytail and leaned back so it brushed the ground as she ascended.

"Kiss me, beneath the milky twilight.

Lead me, out on the moonlit floor."

She smiled as she sung the sound she'd heard on the radio this morning. 

"Lift your open hand.   
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance,  
Silver moon's sparkling.  
So kiss me."

She hummed the harmonica tune as she got read to start the next verse, when she heard shuffling to her left. She gasped and dropped to the ground, her fears coming back.

"H-hello?" Please be a cat, please be a cat, please be a cat.

"Lovely singing voice you got there, pet."


	4. Chapter 4

She stumbled backwards, which resulted in her falling on her ass. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to become a bad dream; she wasn't supposed to ever hear that voice again. That voice would be haunting her nightmares for years to come, but she shouldn't have been hearing it coming from the orange slide a mere few hundred yards from her house.

Every instinct she had was telling her to run, but she found she couldn't move. She couldn't close her mouth. She couldn't stand up. She was completely frozen in terror.

"Come here." His voice was quiet, yet commanding.

"I can't move," she confessed truthfully before she formed the words in her head.

"Come. Here." She slowly stood, her legs shaking, and looked around. Her broken tree branch was lying just a few feet away. She picked it up and hid it behind her back as she cautiously approached him. She should have been running, but at the moment she was too scared not to obey the Vampire.

She stepped directly in front of the slide opening, but kept her distance. A figure dressed in black was curled up inside, looking a bit cramped.

"Library," he muttered, and she squirmed. "You were at the library, I recognize your scent. Were you there the whole time?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. I don't go to libraries. Libraries are for geeks." The words came out of her mouth again, making her a little miffed at the lack of control she apparently had over her speech today. She didn't mind libraries; she went with Xander and Willow a lot. She'd met the both when she first moved to Sunnydale, and all her cheerleading friends were too fake for her. Cordelia and Harmony were the worst, so she always hung out with a different social circle.

"Really?" Spike asked, sounding amused.

"Really. I'm Homecoming Queen. No libraries for me."

"Ah, but the nose knows, love."

"So what are you, part bloodhound?" Her stomach twisted as she realized she'd said the word 'blood.' She then put two and two together about Peaches's comment- he could smell her standing in the shadows, it appeared to be a Vampire thing. And if he hadn't been full…

"I hate dogs. I'm more of a cat person."

"Me too." Her head was switching between scared stuttering and casual speaking. It was getting annoying.

"So why were you at the library?"

"Detention."

"I knew you were lying."

"Please don't eat me."

"Can't. Stupid librarian. Do me a favor, love?"

"No."

"Please? I'll make it worth your while."

"What do you need?"

"I'm not sure. First we need to do a little brainstorming. I can't move."

"Okay. How am I supposed to help?"

"I don't know. Librarian shot me with something, took my legs out."

"Then how did you get here?"

"I ran. When I couldn't go any further, I crawled in here."

"Why?"

"In case it got sunny, I'd be protected by this thing."

"So you really can't move?" He thrashed his torso violently, making Buffy take a step back, but his legs stayed in basically the same spot. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Hmm. Got a car?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why not? My family can't afford another car, I don't have one."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But how am I supposed to get out of here?"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you stole the du Lac Manuscript." He didn't say anything, then chuckled.

"Rupert filled you in."

"Look, I don't have a car, and I obviously can't carry you wherever you need to go."

"Well then, think harder."

"Why do you seem to think I'm helping you at all? You can't walk, so you can't attack me. There's no reason I should, especially since you tried to kill Giles and all." Spike sighed.

"What do you want?"

"I want to go home."

"I mean, what thing do you want? Boots you saw at the mall? Dress you saw on some bint? I can nick it for you."

"I don't wear stolen clothing."

"You want money?"

"Not if it's stolen." Spike raised himself on his elbows, and shifted into his game face. Buffy screamed and dropped her branch, but didn't move backwards.

"Help me, or I'll find you when I CAN walk," he growled, before switching back to his handsome features and settling back down again.

"I-I'll get my Mom's car."

"Glad to hear it. Off you trot now." She began to back up. "And remember, I'll find you if you don't come back."

She ran.

How was she going to get her mother's car? Joyce would never lend it unless it was an emergency. This definitely counted as an emergency, but she couldn't explain it to her mother. Joyce would want to call the police if she heard someone had been threatening her daughter, and then Buffy would be responsible for the neck injuries half of Sunnydale's police force was sporting.

"Mom?" she called as she ran into the house, panting. Joyce was nowhere to be found. She moved into the kitchen, and saw a yellow note on the fridge. She was getting used to these notes by now; they usually meant Joyce was working late to bring much-needed money into the house.

"Buffy,

I'll be back before you go to bed. Be good. Eat healthy. Do your homework. No people over. I have my cell.

Mom"

Well, that was cryptic. Buffy picked up the kitchen telephone and pressed 2 on the speed dial. It rang a few times, and Joyce picked up.

"Hi Mom. Where are you?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No, your note was just very vague."

"Ah. Well, I'm having dinner with a man I met yesterday." Buffy wrinkled her nose. Joyce's dates always ended badly- she didn't have the best taste in guys, and normally she'd storm home ranting about how misunderstood women were these days.

"Wait, did he pick you up?"

"Yes. And the gentleman act ended there." Buffy's heart raced as she realized the car must still be there.

"Okay, just checking in."

"I appreciate it, sweetie."

"I'll go now. Bye." She hung up calmly, then dashed to the garage.

A minute later, she was pulling up in front of the playground. She noticed Spike's legs were now hanging out of the slide as she walked up to him. She was a little braver now, having grabbed her inch-big cross from a tangle of necklaces at the bottom of her jewelry box.

"You won't bite me. And not just tonight, but ever. That's what I want." He nodded.

"Fair enough."

"Where do you want me to take you?"

"The factory. My headquarters."

"Are there other Vampires there?" She was afraid again.

"Yes. You can dump me outside, I'll make it by myself. I don't exactly think the boys'll let a pretty thing like you just walk out."

"If you tell them not to, won't they? I mean, you're the leader."

"True, but I have an image to maintain. How would it look to the employees if the Big Bad didn't touch a hair on little birdie's head?" She approached him slowly.

"Can you get to the car by yourself?"

"Nope. Closer." He grabbed the sides of the slide and slid out, leaning on it to support himself. He crooked a finger as she continued slowly drawing nearer.

He draped an arm around her shoulders, and she buckled her knees under his weight. Nervously, she tried to shake her head so her hair would fall in place and cover every single square inch of her neck. He saw what she was trying to do, and smirked.

"I'm a man of my word, pet. I'm not going there." She began walking as he moved his legs. He could still control them, but the venom on the arrow Giles had shot into his arse had pretty much turned all below-the-waist muscles to jam. He couldn't stand on his own now- it was a miracle he'd gotten this far. Good thing he'd been smart enough to give Dorian the manuscript, and then gotten out of there as fast as he could. The playground was a few miles from the school, and he'd picked it as his shelter while he plotted how best to return to the factory.

Buffy was extremely nervous. Why was she helping an injured Vampire? Shouldn't she have tried to stab him with the stick or something? He was evil, he'd deserve it. But as Buffy half-carried him, he was no more monster than she. He was just a man- a helpless man. A hot helpless man. Who smelled like tobacco and chocolate. And had pool blue eyes that she wanted to swim in. Okay, she knew in the back of her mind that he was still THE Spike who Giles had freaked out over, but apparently bad guys came in all forms. And it really wasn't fair for someone so evil to have such a sexy accent.

She opened the back door for him, and stepped aside as he tumbled to the seat. Closing the door behind him as he wriggled into a leaning position, she climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Spike gave her directions as she drove away from the familiar houses and businesses of Sunnydale, towards what Spike had called 'The Factory'.

"What's your name?" he asked unexpectedly as she followed his instructions to turn left.

"I don't want to tell you," she tried to say boldly, but her voice squeaked a little.

"I won't hurt you, pet. What's your name?"

"Anne," she supplied, giving her middle name.

"Don't lie to me, you silly little bint."

"I'm not lying. My name is Anne. Anne is my name."

"You don't stay alive, well, undead, as long as I am, and not know how to tell when someone's lying to your face."

"I'm Anne." She kept her face as composed as possible. He said nothing for a few minutes except to tell her where to turn.

"My Mum's name was Anne."

"That's very interesting."

"She was an amazing woman. You have to be strong to be called Anne."

"I'm not sure if you're dissing or complimenting me."

"Do you live up to the name?"

"I-I guess," she stuttered.

"I killed her, though. My Mum." Buffy gasped. "Think about that next time you lie to my face, little girl."

They continued to drive, Spike leisurely relaxing in the back as Buffy's knuckles turned white from the force she was gripping the steering wheel with.

"So…Homecoming Queen." Spike was obviously trying to fish for conversation topics.

"Yea."

"Didn't have that when I went to school."

"Why not?"

"Many years ago, love." She said nothing. They were probably almost there. "Got a boyfriend?" Spike's attempts at chatting weren't working very well when Buffy feared for her life. Spike had made a deal with her, but nothing guaranteed his keeping it. "If you don't want to talk to me, just say so. I don't mind. I actually prefer it- the quiet girls are always the violent ones in the sack." Her cheeks flushed as she turned the radio on to discourage his topic. It was a Top 40 station, and Spike scoffed.

"Try again, love." She flipped between the frequencies until an unrecognizable punk sound was playing. Spike obviously knew what it was, because he sung along and thrashed his head.

"Stop here." She instantly slammed on the breaks and waited for him to indicate he was getting out. He didn't move.

"Uh, what?"

"This is my stop."

"Then…what's with the roots?"

"You don't walk out mid-Morrissey."

"Mid what?"

"Morrissey. You should give him a try, he's not as bleak as they say."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'm at FYE." The song finally ended, and Spike pulled himself towards the door.

"Thanks for the ride, pet." He swung it open and dived out, rolling off the shoulder and onto the grass. She got out to close the door as she saw him pulling himself towards a nearby building with his elbows, looking like a baby learning to crawl. A giggle slipped out of her mouth, and she allowed herself to smile again. Spike heard it and the engine gunning that followed as she sped home.

She had a nice laugh, for a human. Not as evil as the laughs he heard from his crowd, but refreshing nonetheless.


	5. Chapter 5

"Now Thomas Jefferson may have written the constitution, but James Madison is considered it's 'father', because of all the compromises he made. Who can give me an example of one of them?" No one raised their hand. "Miss Summer, how about you?"

"Wha?" Buffy averted her eyes from the window she'd been staring out. A few kids snickered.

"Can you name one of Madison's constitution compromises?"

"Er, the Connecticut one?"

"That would be a compromise on Connecticut's part, Miss Summers." More laughing. Willow turned in her seat and shot an apologetic glance at her as the teacher moved on to another student.

Her focus had been lacking even more than usual these past few days. It had seemed so…normal, to just get up and go to school the day after she'd discovered a secret, supernatural world in her backyard, and played chauffeur to a deadly Vampire. But it hadn't been normal. It had been terrifying. And being forced to sit her like she did every other day before certain events had occurred, it was torture.

She'd helped Giles clean up the early senior prank (the Protector had labeled the destruction of his library such), but she still was unsure whether or not to tell him about her little solo episode with Spike.

He'd probably appreciate knowing, killing Vampires and all, but if she told him he would know that she disobeyed his orders to avoid Spike. He'd told her not to engage him in conversation, and yet she'd stood in front of the slide and spoken to him, knowing all the while he couldn't chase after her. Giles was back to being an uptight, pain-in-the-ass adult, so she didn't think confessing her Vampire Carpool would help their faint relationship.

"Miss Summers, am I boring you today?"

"Not at all," she said a little too quickly. The teacher rolled his eyes.

"See me after class, Miss Summers." Buffy sighed as he moved on. She wasn't the most well-behaved teenager, but lately she was on a trouble roll. Zoning out in class, getting detention all over the place, and being grounded for all her lying…it was all catching up to her, and she was beginning to feel like the people around her were getting disappointed. She'd never been a discipline problem in the past, not even in LA. Her parents had divorced there, and even then she hadn't raised her voice. It must be all those goody two-shoe years catching up to her, she decided.

After a quick private lecture from the teacher ("You aren't living up to your potential, Miss Summers"), Buffy slowly made her way to the library. She was going to tell Giles. The internal debate whether or not to tell Giles had been occupying her thoughts enough times for her teachers to call her on it lately, and she was going to make that problem disappear at least.

"Buffy?" She turned her head toward Willow's voice and plastered a peppy smile on her face.

"Hi Willow!"

"Uh, hi. Is everything okay? You've been acting weird today, and Riley just left me a voicemail saying your phone's been off for the past couple days."

"Oh yea, Riley. My boyfriend. My phone's been off, I'll call him back later. Or now I guess, even though we're not supposed to have phones here. At the rate I'm going, though, why not break the rules? Yea, I'll call him now." As soon as the decision was made, however, she remembered where her phone was. In the pocket of the jeans she'd been wearing when she helped Spike to the car…part of the entire outfit which she'd stripped off and thrown in the back corner of her closet as soon as she'd gotten home that day. If all Vampires could smell as well as Spike, she didn't want anyone to be picking up on how close she'd been to one of them.

"No phone. That's okay, I gotta go talk to Mr. Giles."

"The librarian?" Willow's face matched her voice in incredulity, and she moved forward to place her hand on Buffy's forehead.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me! You go to class now, I know how much you like it. Catch you later Willow!" She waved as she jogged off, leaving a dumbfounded Willow in her wake.

"Any idea what's up with her?" Xander asked as he approached the read head, having heard the last part of their conversation.

"Not a clue. I'm worried, though."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Giles! Mr. Giles!" She burst into the library screaming for him without a second thought. A few other students scattered throughout the library glared at her, but she ignored them.

"Miss Summers? What in the world is it?"

"I kinda have something to tell you."

"With that entrance, it had better be big."

"It is big. And bumpy. And allergic to the sun." Giles's eyes widened as his jaw clenched.

"May I see you in my office, Miss Summers?" He led the way as a few people stared after them. The second he shut the door, Buffy burst out with her guilty explanation.

"I saw Spike!"

"When?"

"Three days ago." Giles blinked.

"Yes, I saw him too. I was there, if you recall."

"No, I mean after that. I found him on my way home all paralyzed, and he made me drive him home." Giles chocked comically even though he wasn't attempting to swallow anything.

"Why didn't you tell me of this earlier?"

"I thought you'd be mad," she started as his face turned cadmium red.

"First of all, are you hurt in any way?"

"No. He said he wouldn't hurt me if I just took him to his factory."

"Where was it?" Buffy's heart sank at the hungry look in his eyes. Apart from not wanting to send Giles into a Vampire-infested lair, as he was sure to go there sooner or later, she didn't think Spike would be too pleased if she revealed the location of his HQ.

"I-I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention, just following his directions." Which was true to a point, though the entire night was seared into her memory. Giles groaned and rubbed his temples.

"What in God's name possessed you to do such a ludicrous thing?"

"Hey, it's not like I walked around with an open wound, saying 'Here, Spikey.' He was half-paralyzed, hiding in a playground slide."

"And you felt sorry for him and did whatever he asked of you?"

"Kinda with the sorry thing."

"Buffy, Spike is a demon. He has no soul, he cannot feel compassion, and he has surely been in a worse situation than half-paralyzed in a playground slide. Feeling sorry for his kind is a weakness sure to get you killed. Or worse, turned."

"Well he was all helpless. But that's not why I drove him. The reasoning there falls along the lines of his threatening to come after me if I didn't. He promised not to hurt me ever if I helped him."

"Well, Spike is a citizen with an upstanding record. I'm sure he'll keep his word. God, Buffy! I know you're unfamiliar with this world, but I still can't see why when you identified him to be a Vampire, you didn't run and not look back!"

"I'm sorry."

"Buffy- I don't understand how- Why in God's name would- Go back to class!" Giles tried to start a sentence several times, but finally threw her out in exasperation.

"I really am sorry. I-I might be able to find where the factory is, if it will make you not as mad at me."

"I'm going to be mad at you regardless of what you do- how could you be so stupid?"

"But would it help?" He sighed.

"Yes. Yes it would. But I am still going to be checking in on you from now on, making sure you avoid trafficking with the dead."

"Are you going to try and go to the factory?"

"I'll be checking it out at the least."

"What if they bite you?"

"If I can take a few down with me, it will be worth it." Buffy's eyes bugged out.

"How can you say that? You're talking about your LIFE!"

"I know." Giles suddenly looked far older than he was, and tired on top of it. Buffy edged towards the door.

"Um, so yea. Maybe sometime we can go driving around in the daylight, and we'll see if I can't identify the HQ. TTFN." She sped through the library's double doors and out into the deserted hallway, her mind racing. Should she help Giles out or not? She didn't want to get involved…but she felt like she owed it to him after the Spike thing. And she was afraid for both their sake's if she did clue him in, but then there was the greater good to think about, something Giles was apparently very clued in to.

Sighing, she fell back on a slacker habit, and made up her mind before she had time to fully consider all positions and overanalyze the thing to death. She'd tell Giles, trusting that he would do what was best with the information. After all, he was a qualified Vampire killer guy. She sighed again. AND she was passing the buck.

'Mental note: Play a more active role in my own life.' She hurried off to the class she was supposed to be in as she unconsciously reached up and began to fiddle with the cross hanging from her neck.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Hi, I'm Buffy Summers. I'm supposed to do detention today in the cafeteria, but they told me that there had been a change in schedule."

"Ah yes, Miss Summers. Mr. Giles requested that your serve with him today- apparently he liked your work ethic when you helped him clean up that dumb prank in the library."

"Yea. That must be it. Thanks." Dazedly, Buffy turned and walked down the hall towards the library. She'd gone a whole two weeks detention-free, but then that pesky little incident with Harmony Kendall…the other blonde had been teasing Willow, and Buffy had stepped in to help her friend. At least she only had three days this time. But she hadn't talked to Giles since she'd told him about Spike in the library the previous week, and she knew from experience that his detentions were rarely uneventful.

"So, I'm guessing you didn't request I serve detention with you because you liked my work ethic."

"Hello Miss Summers, come with me please."

"Where are we going?"

"A field trip."

"Ew, field trips are so passé. We went to the zoo earlier this year- wait, we're leaving school grounds?"

"That is the concept of a field trip, yes."

"This has something to do with Spike's factory, then." Her heart thudded against her chest with the simple realization.

"You said we could go driving around in daylight at some point to look for it. I believe the offer you made was that you would try to assist my search with your knowledge if I would stop being mad at you. I'm still going to be irked, but the anger might go away if you can help me. This is my car."

"Can I drive?"

"Absolutely not; I need you to concentrate on recalling what you saw when you were with Spike." He unlocked the door for her, but she stood on the passenger side with her hand frozen over the door handle.

"Do Vampires sleep during the day time like in cheesy black-and-white horror films?"

"Quite often, though to generalize that is like saying all teenagers listen to loud music. I'm sure there are a few out there, whom I have yet to meet, that are more inclined to listen to the softer side of rock and roll."

"So they'll be asleep."

"They'll at least be inside. I would not dream of taking you to a known nest if there was the slightest chance they could be roaming about." Buffy took a deep breath and climbed in, trying to calm her racing heart. She was with Giles, who she'd seen inflict some serious damage on a Vampire. As long as she stayed near him, she was safe. Unless Spike was involved, because she didn't know how Giles would match up against the Boss Vampire. She didn't know if Spike intended to keep his promise, though, so that would affect how safe she would be in the event of a Spike attack. However, even if he was planning on keeping his end of the deal, it still might not be prudent to go snooping around his house.

But Giles had already left the parking lot, and she kept her growing fears to herself.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"You're sure it was north of town?"

"There's a compass on my Mom's dashboard, and I glanced at it."

"Well then, we have three candidates for the…what was it you called it?"

"The HQ?"

"Yes, I like that. It's very quick, very modern. Anyway, do you remember anything else from that night which might help us narrow it down?" Buffy squeezed her eyes closed and tried, once more, to relive the freaky drop-off. Dark… Morrissey …ego the size of Utah reclining in the backseat…

"He jumped out the left side of the car, and crawled away on the grass."

"Grass, and on the left side of the road. Excellent job, Buffy." His voice betrayed approval, and she hurried to ask in a hopeful tone,

"Does that mean you're not mad?"

"I'm trying to think here, if you'll excuse me. The factory that used to make computers doesn't have grass, and it's on the right side of the road. Are you relatively sure this was the road you took?"

"I turned around up there. This is it."

"So it's either the deserted car factory, or the abandoned toy factory."

"Somehow I can't see a few dozen fangy freaks taking up residence in a toy factory."

"Which is exactly why I suspect that's the place. When Spike first came to Sunnydale nearly a decade ago, he brought his mate, Drusilla, with him. The woman was more than a little off her rocker, and she harbored a dislike towards most modern technology. It makes perfect sense for the pair to choose the toy factory over the car factory."

"Didn't she leave him, though?"

"Yes, about six years ago. For a while, Angelus and Darla were in town, and having four Master Vampires running around, it was quite possibly the most terrifying few months of my life."

"Who's Darla?"

"Angelus's mate."

"So Vampires have mates, not spouses?"

"I do not believe Vampires themselves label their relationships. It's just accepted that two are together by the night community, and it's humans who often call them mates for lack of better term."

"Okay…Spike, Drusilla, Angelus, Darla. Keep going, this is getting interesting."

"Very well, if for no other reason than we can go back to the school now, and I can stop concentrating. The four of them running the Sunnydale underground was a nightmare, but it was also a Godsend. The four are legendary, but their fatal flaw is their inability to cooperate, particularly Angelus and Spike. Before long, Angelus took Darla, and the two moved on to San Francisco for a time. We lost track of them, but not long after they left, Drusilla opted to follow their example in leaving town. My guess is that Spike feuding with Angelus, her Sire, drove a distance between the two. And rumor has it she soon after ran off with another male demon."

"But Angelus, Darla, and Drusilla were back a few weeks ago for the du Lac Manuscript, weren't they?"

"Drusilla was attacked by an angry mob in Prague last year, and it left her severely weakened. If Angelus and Darla were with her, I'm guessing she joined their traveling band of demons. I reported my theories to the Protector's Council, and they seemed to find them in place; apparently she and Darla were spotted in Tokyo about four months ago together. If the three have taken to traveling and killing together, it makes it a harder task for my fellow Protectors. But I still have my duties on this Hellmouth, just as Spike chose to stay here instead of joining his old friends."

"And a Hellmouth would be?"

"Exactly what it sounds like; a gateway to Hell. There are I believe four at the moment; Sunnydale, Cleveland, Wuhan, China, and Mendoza, Argentina."

"Aye-eye-eye."

"Are you quite out of questions?" Giles sounded grumpy, but in reality he was trying to steer away from the lengthening conversation at hand. He'd promised himself he would keep aloof from the locals; the death of a close acquaintance, perhaps even a friend, would be devastating. Buffy was the first resident of Sunnydale he'd actually spent a small amount of time with, and he was finding himself quite protective of the snarky but sweet girl. If she got too involved…if she found herself mixed up in this dangerous world of laying down one's life for one's cause…

"One more. Can Vampires love?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Well, the whole mate thing. You said they didn't have souls, but I always associate love with soulmate. Or at least the big kahuna love, maybe not those little puppy love phases, but is it possible?" Giles thought this over for a moment.

"It is generally believed that Vampires cannot feel human emotions, the most obvious of them being love. I followed this way of thinking until I was assigned to stand guard over Sunnydale in the wake of my predecessor, Gwendolyn Post. In the twelve years since I have been in charge of this city, I have learned more lessons than I thought existed. I've been hunting Spike for approximately nine of those years, and he has been the one to change my thinking on a number of issues.

"I saw how he loved Drusilla, though she ignored him the second her Sire entered the room. I saw how he grieved when she left him. I saw how he tried to deal with her absence in ways much like human males do, though perhaps a bit more violently. Unfortunately, I saw all of this only in glimpses because we've only come face-to-face five times, but I still know enough to say that Spike, if not a whole small percentage of Vampires, had and have a little more to them than their soul."

"Wow, you've fought Spike five times and lived?" Her admiration was evident on her face as he tried not to blush, stammered, and turned into the school parking lot.

"Draws, every time. Someone always has to feel like it's not their time to go, and they'll do better next time, so they run off. I will get him someday, though. I've made it my mission, and after I do it I will be able to rest easier."

"Good luck. Do I have you for detention tomorrow?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I may be taking a few days off actually, in the attempts of formulating a one-man strike plan."

"See you around then. Oh, and be careful." She walked to the front of the school as Giles nodded, then began to smile once she was out of site. Well, what an amusing discovery. Not all the teenagers in this horrible place were rude and unconcerned.


	6. Chapter 6

"Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go, I wanna be sedated," Spike played a mean air guitar as he jumped on his bed, screaming along with his record player. "Nothin' to do and no where to go, I wanna be sedated." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that one of his minions had entered the room, and was staring at the Master Vampire's antics with a mixture of amusement and fright.

Jumping down, he was in front of the minion (Derek? David?) before the boy knew what was happening. Spike grabbed him by the neck (Daniel? Dale?), and hoisted him into the air so his feet were dangling a few inches above the ground.

"Yes?" he greeted him sweetly.

"Spike, we saw the Protector snooping around earlier today." Dropping the shaken minion (Damien? Dante?), Spike sneered as he went to turn the Ramones off.

"Speak," he commanded as he lit a cigarette, and sank down into his favorite arm chair.

"The factory's cameras spotted him and some cute little blonde driving by a couple times today. Dorian said it was safe to say the White Hats knew we were there." Damn good thing he'd entered the twenty-first century, and gotten those cameras put in. They came in extremely helpful for guarding the factory during the day. Plus, the installation men hadn't tasted bad at all.

"Go back to the factory, I'll be along in a minute." The minion (Daryl? Dennis?) skittered out of the crypt, Spike's own personal casa, as the older Vampire grabbed his infamous duster and pulled it on. Damn Rupert Giles! He'd been the reason they'd had to haul out of the mansion years back, and take up residence in the less comfy toy factory. Spike didn't actually stay in the dirty, drafty factory, but he still gritted his teeth as he conjured up yet another plan to kill the meddlesome librarian. His favorite was sneaking in while the man was asleep, and then slicing him open, removing his kidneys, and leaving him in a bathtub full of blood, as the urban legend went. He didn't know where Mr. Giles lived, though, as he changed residences every few months for his own safety. And apparently, as Spike had seen on his recent trip to the library, his book collection was so large that he kept it in the school to avoid moving it around so often.

He mounted his Harley, and cut across the cemetery loudly as he headed for the factory. A cute little blonde in the car with the librarian? Could it have been 'Anne'? His lips curved into a malicious smile as he remembered the girl who'd lied to him. It seemed unlikely that the librarian would involve a young girl such as her, but she'd been in the library when he collected the book. Maybe it had been her. In any case, this latest development was bad. And the son of a bitch was going to die.

He pulled up to the loading docks, and the watch nodded to him as he swept past them into the factory. Heading directly towards the old executive offices, his right-hand, Dorian, fell into step beside him.

"We checked through the city computers, it was definitely the Protector's car." Ah, someone who didn't mince words. THAT was why Spike trusted Dorian.

"We don't have much time then. We need to either move, or take him out."

"I vote for the second one."

"I like the way you think, mate. Do we have any leads on where he lives?"

"No, but we do have a nighttime location. While we were looking up the license plate, we checked up on his job. It seems the school he works at is having something called a Parent/Teacher night three days from now- no sun, and the Protector should be there."

"He's not a teacher," Spike was forced to point out.

"Doesn't a librarian count as a teacher?"

"Don't think so. Get me a phone, someone." One of the minions (Robert? Randall?) immediately produced a cell phone, and hung around Spike as he dialed. The master Vampire growled at his puppy-like antics. He wasn't going to rewards the fledgling, so he'd best back off.

"You've reached Sunnydale High. School hours are over now, so leave a message, and our secretaries will get back to you as soon as possible." Deciding these secretaries would most likely be middle-aged, sex-deprived women, Spike adopted the sexiest accent he could muster.

"'lo lovely people at Sunnydale High, my daughter attends your fine school, and she brought home one of them papers today sayin' about the Parent/Teacher night coming up, and I was wondering if Mr. Giles, the librarian, was gonna be there. My girl, ya know, all quiet and bookwormish. She really likes this Mr. Giles, and I was hoping I'd get a chance to meet the bloke. Ta, ladies." He hung up with a smirk.

"He'll be there. Till then, double security. Anything weird, call me immediately."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Buffy hummed tunelessly to herself as she stood on a ladder and stapled yet another 'Welcome Parents!' banner up. Principal Snyder had recruited all of the school's 'troublemakers' in his efforts to decorate for Parent/Teacher night. None of the other delinquents had cared enough to take initiative where the event was concerned, so Buffy had appointed herself in-charge.

"Sheila, see if there's any more red construction paper in the art room. Michael, go to the supply closet, and get another box of staples. Jack, can you go start the coffee maker?" Grudgingly, they all wandered off with her instructions.

"The right side is lower than the left." She turned to see Giles standing beside the ladder, appraising her work.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure myself. In all my years of working here, I've never been asked to come in for Parent/Teacher night."

"You're not a teacher."

"I know. That's why I find this bizarre."

"Oooh, I bet the spookies are behind this!" Giles did not look amused.

"Don't joke about things such as that. Besides, I hardly think being called in by my place of employment, even on a night when I'd normally not be, signifies that there is evil afoot."

"You never know." He smiled at her as he took off his glasses to clean them.

"That's very true. You don't. As such, it's best to be prepared at all times." He replaced his glasses, but began to rummage in his briefcase with his free hand. "Which is why I see fit to give you this." Buffy brightened.

"Ooh, a present!" He handed her a curved stick of wood, filed to a point. "…Just what I wanted."

"It's a stake. I personally think all residents of Sunnydale should be equipped with one, but telling them why they needed to carry wooden stakes on them at all times would most likely alarm them. But you already know the truth, and I don't like the idea of you walking around with just that tiny cross to protect you." She reached out and took the stake, wondering if she should be creeped out or honored.

"It's…" She looked up as Giles tried to start a sentence, and noticed with a start that it looked like tears were forming behind his eyes. "Its name is Mr. Pointy. I trained a young Protector, about the age you are now, named Kendra, several years back. And that was her stake." She caught the accidental emphasis he placed on 'was', and realized how much this piece of wood meant to him. She decided to be honored.

"Thank you Giles. I promise that I won't let any baddies bite me." He gave her another fatherly smile, before turning and heading towards the library. Running her fingers over the crude stake, she slipped it in her pocket and began trying to straighten the banner once more.

An hour later, the place was beginning to teem with parents. Buffy spotted her own mother coming in, and approached her with a cup of lemonade.

"Hi Mom. So, did you meet all my teachers yet? Hear all the lovely, glowing remarks they had to make about me?"

"Buffy, I just got here. I haven't spoken to any of your teachers yet."

"Really? Cause I could have sworn you were just on your way out of here."

"What?"

"Yea, you came from the direction of my History class, so I just assumed."

"I came through the front door."

"Are you sure?"

"Buffy, are you trying to confuse me out of speaking to your teachers?" She shrugged, caught.

"Maybe." Joyce sighed as she took a sip of the lemonade.

"This is good. I'm going to meet your teachers now." She walked off as Buffy grumbled, and went back to the refreshment table. She wished Xander or Willow was here, but no student would be caught dead anywhere near Parent/Teacher night unless they were forced into pulling host duty.

Snagging a cookie from the treat-laden table, she plastered a phony smile on her face, greeted every parent who wandered over to the snacks, and fiddled with the stake in her pocket.

If only there was a Vampire around now. They may be scary, but there was nothing boring about them.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Spike had positioned minions at every possible exit, and a few at random intervals in case the building's occupants were smart and tried to escape through a window. He wasn't particularly interested in any of the soon-to-be hostages, though. He'd let his crew have their fun with them, but he was interested in Rupert Giles alone. And he could smell that the man had walked up the front steps to the school very recently.

Grinning, he nodded to Dorian, and made his way towards the doors with a small force of human-faced Vamps. He threw open the swinging doors and sashayed in, keeping his human features across his face. Having studied the school's plans years ago, he made his way to the library with his duster flying out behind him. All parents who happened to be in the hallway were muscled to the side by his minions as Spike strode confidently past, the smell of Protector getting stronger and stronger in his nostrils. He passed the cafeteria, were a number of parents were crowding around the doors to peer out at the commotion in the hallway, and a different scent hit his nose. He smirked to himself.

"Oi! There's a little blonde bint in there- no one touches her, hear me? I call dibs." The others nodded their obedience, and he put 'Anne' out of his mind for the moment. He had to focus- Giles wouldn't slip through his fingers tonight.

Moment of truth. The library doors were in sight, and there was already a struggle going on inside. Apparently dear Rupes had tried to sneak out the back way, but found himself quite restrained. Spike grinned as he pounced through the door and indeed found Mr. Giles hacking away at Spike's troops with what appeared to be a fencing sword as he stood on one of the library's tables. Snorting to himself at the Protector's choice of weapon, he cleared his throat conspicuously. Immediately, the three Vamps fighting Giles backed off as their leader strode forward confidently. He looked around the room with one sweeping blue gaze, noting that the only other human in the room appeared to be a middle-aged woman with curly brownish hair. She gasped when she saw the new additions to Giles' attackers, and ducked behind a bookshelf. Spike grinned. Did Rupert have himself a little girlfriend, or was she in the wrong place at the worst time?

"You were behind the sudden desire for my participation in Parent/Teacher night. I'd never have guessed." Spike shrugged.

"It's the accent. Ladies will do anything for the accent." He approached his prey, circling just out of reach of the fencing sword. Some of the younger minions who had yet to see Spike in actual combat shifted eagerly, waiting for their master to strike. But Spike wasn't ready yet.

"So…s'pose I could just kill you. Not quickly, mind you, and it'd be pretty damn satisfying." He reversed the direction of his circle. "Or I could turn you. I couldn't mangle you if so, but I have a feeling you'd rather die than suffer your girlie's fate. Kendall was her name, right?"

"Kendra," Giles growled. The painful memory had now been forced to the surface twice in one night…if he lived to survive this, sleep would not come easy tonight.

"Same difference. All you Protectors are bloody alike. You follow the same rules, use the same methods, and meet the same ends." Giles' blood began to boil as the Vampire talked casually about Kendra's death. "Heard about her, though. She was different. Stabbed in the back-literally- by you lot. Now that's not a pretty way to go." He nodded thoughtfully, before grinning again. "So. I'm still trying to decide how I do you in. I've thought about this moment a good deal many times- when I have you surrounded on your own ground, too far away from your precious arms, with only a flimsy piece 'o metal to protect you. So what way do I proceed?" His grin had become so perverse it made Giles' stomach churn. "Feel free to chime in. After all, it's your death."

Giles stood perfectly still. He'd paid close attention to the Vampire's trajectory on the library floor, and when he knew that Spike was as far away from him as he was going to get, he jumped down from the table as he flung the fencing sword at Spike's chest. It had been the only weapon at the school not in his briefcase- he kept it behind the checkout desk, and practiced with it while the library was void of students. He'd had to grab it when they heard the noises in the hall, as it was the first accessible. His briefcase had been placed in a corner too far away from the table he'd sat at with Ms. Summers just a few minutes ago, and he now lunged for it as Spike grabbed the metal moments before it hit him. The little catching trick had cost him a second thought, and Giles was already halfway to his supply of Holy ornaments.

Spike came after him, his game face having slipped on when Giles made his mad dash. Just before he grabbed the Protector, Giles groped blindly in the portfolio-style bag, found a plain wooden cross, and held it to Spike's face. Swearing, the Vampire leapt backwards.

It took Spike all of two seconds to regain his composure, and he jumped at Giles with a hand out to hold the arm bearing the cross down. With fangs mere inches from his face, all Giles could do was rummage helplessly with his free hand for anything to get Spike off of him, much less kill him. Seeing his movements, pressure was lightly applied to his inner elbow, so any wooden object produced couldn't reach the Vampire's cold heart through any means. But as his fingers grazed a recent addition to his arsenal, a small smile spread across his face.

"Kill an' mangle it is. Any last words?"

"This may pinch a bit." And without further warning, he jabbed the needle into Spike's lower arm and pressed down on the syringe. Spike's eyes adopted a dazed look for a few seconds before he slumped forward, muttering.

Giles pushed the bleached freak off him and rolled to his feet. He took out a stake to finish what he'd started years ago, but two of Spike's droogs pushed him back and grabbed their leader.

"Grab the book…on poisons," Spike weakly ordered them as they spread his weight across four lesser Vampires, and all left the library with a glare. None had heard his quiet command before they were gone, and Giles laughed to himself. Once again, Offensive Venomous Substances of Vampires and Human-Like Demons had come in handy- the first time he'd paralyzed Spike, now he'd disoriented him.

He remembered Joyce Summers with a start, and made his way through the bookshelves to find her huddled in the biography section.

"Ms. Summers, are you alright?" She looked up sharply, then smiled.

"I'm fine, thank you. I must have fainted; I had the strangest dream. I wonder what was in that lemonade Buffy gave me?" Raising his eyebrows at the woman's explanation for the Vampires, he helped her up.

"So, um, as I was saying, Buffy is a lovely girl. A bit of an individual, but I don't think she means to be a troublemaker."

"Yes. Yes, thank you Mr. Giles. It was a pleasure meeting you." He led her back to the cafeteria which, as he'd suspected, was now clear of any nocturnal guests. Everyone who'd seen them had already talked themselves into believing that it was a hallucination, and a ring of angry parents were currently surrounding the lemonade bowl. Buffy helplessly tried to fend off the parents who claimed the lemonade was spiked, to no avail. Snyder was already heading towards her with a furious look on his little pug-like face.

After returning to the library to push in chairs and take his briefcase, Giles walked towards his car. Now that he knew Spike had somehow talked the school into calling him in tonight, he didn't feel like so unnecessary as he had when only one parent- Ms. Summers- had showed up to see him.

He blushed as he remembered the kind woman with her subtle flirting- hand on his arm when speaking, gazing into his eyes when he spoke. He looked forward to seeing Ms. Summers again if their paths did indeed cross.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Spike would be in a hell of a bad mood when he woke up, having failed to kill the Protector. To keep in the Vamp's good graces, Dorian was currently prowling the streets, looking for a treat for the master. Remembering his orders as they'd passed the cafeteria, he smirked and headed for the school again. Sure enough, after a little poking around, he found a blonde teenage girl sitting in the room marked 'Principal's Office' alone, looking quite miserable. He slipped in quietly before making his presence known.

"Well, I can see why he wanted you." She gasped and looked up at him with fright evident in her green eyes, and his smirk widened. Crossing the room and grabbing her by the arms, he kicked the window open and hoisted her through. She struggled fiercely, clawing at her jacket pockets, but he just threw her easily over his shoulders.

He was determined to stay Spike's favorite. And if this human could do that, then his task was immensely simplified.


	7. Chapter 7

**Elie Norea – That is quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. However, I'm convinced it's not true. I order you immediately to make your way to my profile, and my favorite stories, and read His Childe, by Kallysten. And as to the time period: It takes place during Buffy's senior year, but since none of the slayish stuff ever happened, 3rd season isn't entirely accurate. I also have the sinking suspicion the allusions to the real events on the show might not be following a strict timeline either. So it's just around 3rd season if you must have a definite time to aid you in your reading. **

**Ilea Dreike – Seeing how I let you peek, the least you could do is review ;-) **

Spike awoke in a chair at the factory, feeling like his brain was orbiting his skull. Thoughts whirled by, but before he could catch any of them, they were gone.

"Bugger."

"Spike?" he faintly heard Dorian's voice from beside him. Or behind him. It was a little hard to tell.

"Head's all loopy."

"Giles injected you with something." When he heard the word 'Giles', his cold blood burned.

"Loopy head. 's what I got."

"Yea, we were gonna let you sleep that off." Flashes of what had happened in the library flooded back to him as he finally began to place Dorian's voice. The Vamp was apparently standing a few feet in front of him, peering anxiously into Spike's face.

He opened his eyes slowly, but the room around him was spinning, and it made him even dizzier than he currently was. Groaning, he shut them again.

When the grogginess had begun to subside, his subconscious mind began to kick itself. It was telling him to get up.

"Can't make me," he said aloud, taunting his own brain. The minion appointed to watch over him, having begun to doze, jerked awake. "No, I don't think I will. Thank you for offering, though."

'Holy shit, Spike's gone crazy.' Terrified, the young Vampire ran to the door.

"Dorian! It's Spike!" The elder came running, followed by a small pack of curious Vamps.

"Alright, fine. I'll do it." Spike's piercing blue eyes flew open as Dorian bent over him. "Oi! Back off, bollock-brain!"

"Sorry, Spike. Just wanted to see if you were gonna join us again." Spike growled. The world looked a lot clearer after waking up a second time.

"Did none of you idiots grab the bloody book?" The crowd around him shifted nervously, and he groaned as he stood up slowly. He was still a dizzy, but he had a hunch it was nothing a little snack, followed by a few hours of Soap Net, wouldn't cure. "Incompetent buncha wankers. That's what you lot are."

"Won't happen again, Spike."

"It bloody well not." He took a few steps forward, immensely satisfied when he didn't topple over. "Right then. You all stay here, hunt in shifts, don't stake nobody, the usual. I'm goin' back to my crypt to recover; tomorrow, we're back to focusing on Giles." He turned to go, but Dorian cleared his throat superiorly.

"Questions from the audience?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you want to do with the girl?"

"What girl?" As soon as he said it, her scent hit him. Anne. Here, in the factory. He took in a deep unnecessary breath, trying to hone in on her. She was on the lower level, terrified, and basically unharmed. Just as he'd requested.

When passing by the cafeteria before the library incident, he had given the order that the blonde girl was not to be touched. He himself had called dibs, knowing Anne's ownership would never be challenged that way. But at the time, he'd pushed the incident out of his mind, vowing to deal with her after Giles was a pile of bloody body parts. His motives behind the order had been selfish, as he was entitled to give as a Vampire Master. She was a rather interesting human, one he didn't want his employees drooling on. But whether he'd actually intended to take her himself, or harbored the wish to obey her request never to bite her…he didn't know.

"How sweet of you, Dorian. I think I'll go gather up my toy, and be on my merry way." He patted Dorian's head with a gesture that could have been either affectionate, or patronizing. He loved the fact that his second-in-command would spend hours trying to discern between them after he made his exit.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

She was tied to a metal pole protruding from the concrete floor. His pigshit minions had secured her with twine, not rope, and her mouth was full of a gag made from an old, dirty t-shirt. She had lowered herself to the floor, where her head leaned on her knees. A former accountant watched over her from a stool several feet away, and he stood up when Spike's presence became apparent. Anne didn't move, though he could see her eyelashes fluttering.

"Fought like an animal when Dorian hauled her in. She had a cross that we already dumped, and a stake." He picked the crude wooden object up from a nearby overturned bin, and held it out to Spike, point first. When he realized that he was pointing a stake at his leader, however, the panic caused him to fumble with and drop the weapon.

"For Acathla's sake, give it to me before we're both dust." It was in his hands, and he turned it over, looking for any markings. It didn't have any; just a whittled piece of wood. But the fact that the Protector had her armed meant that Anne was indeed a player in this game.

"You probably could have taken Dorian. Don't know how much Giles has taught you, but if he didn't take this from you the second he got his hands on your bendable little body, you would have had the element of surprise." He crouched down in front of her, but she didn't move. Oh, she started to shake, but she didn't move. "I'll be taking this. Puttin' it in a special place." Still nothing.

Singing a Misfits song to himself, Spike untied her. There were small scratches in the places the twine had bitten her, but nothing a handful of band aids couldn't fix. He threw her over his shoulder as she started to squirm. Without blinking, he turned sharply so her head bashed the pole, and she fell silent.

"I'm out. Happy hunting," he said to the former accountant as he made his way to the back loading dock. He climbed onto his motorcycle, settling Anne in front of him so that her unconscious form leaned back into him. It didn't look as suspicious as a biker with a young girl slung over his shoulder, and it was easier. All pluses.

As the wind stung his somewhat blurry eyes, the warm dead-weight in his arms shifted. Damn. She wasn't supposed to wake up yet. Apparently he hadn't hit her head as hard as planned.

"Hmm?" she murmured, the noise falling on his ears like a dove settling into its nest.

"Bad Spike!" he scolded himself aloud. He'd promised himself no more poetry many years ago, and rarely slipped up. But when he did, it was often times such as this; when he wasn't feeling quite top notch.

"Spike?" she questioned quietly, her eyes fluttering open, and her left hand feeling around. It found his legs, and she jumped. Only a quick show of skill by Spike kept her from sending them both into the highway divider. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." The scent of her fear was tantalizing, making him question again what he was going to do with her. Keep up his bargain? Bite her quickly? Have a little fun with her first? "Someone help me, please!" Her plea wasn't very loud, but he clamped a hand over her mouth anyway.

"Shush. In my day, women were to be seen and not heard." Her eyes flashed definitely for a moment before being flooded with terror once more, and he chuckled. "Luckily for you, I don't believe in that rot. Known some ladies that were true fighters. Got a lotta respect for them, even if I don't particularly like them." Darla. What a bitch. But she could take a whole mob, laughing as she scratched and nibbled.

Buffy wracked her brain as he stopped talking to her and concentrated on steering. It was good- the motorcycle was wobbling a little too much for her taste anyway. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to calm herself. Not allowing herself the luxury of panic, she assessed her situation.

She was going to die. That was the result of her assessment. She was alone, on an almost-empty highway with an evil Vampire, heading God knows where, at a completely indecent hour. Deciding that she might have a better chance to escape if she could work on her plan in advance, she tapped him on the thigh.

"Yes, sweet bottom?"

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as he removed the hand.

"My place." The way he said it, so nonchalantly, made her feel like it was Riley. 'Let's go to my place.' It wasn't right for her sweet, human boyfriend, and this THING to share lingo. Shouldn't a Vampire call it something cooler, like a lair, anyway?

"When are you going to kill me?" He shrugged; she felt it against her shoulders. She was trapped between his arm, his hand, and his chest. It hit her just then that this would have been a very intimate position with any other guy. And how weird it would be with any other guy- Riley was her man. Riley was her first real boyfriend, her only real boyfriend. She'd given her self to him, ALL of herself. And she knew that (in the event Spike didn't have her on the menu in the near future) she'd be with Riley for a very long time, if not forever.

"Have you forgotten about our little bargain?"

"No, I just assumed you had." He nodded thoughtfully.

"I'm undecided. I always am- there's so many options when you don't have a conscious to get in the way."

"Can I say something?" As had happened during her previous encounter with Spike, the more scared she got, the more casually she was able to talk to him. That couldn't be right. She should get her head examined. Assuming, you know, that it stayed attached to her body.

"If you must."

"If you decide, for some reason, not to kill me, could you do it before Wednesday? Because that's when I have this huge math test, and I can't make it up. Living with that over my head won't be fun."

"So you choose death instead?"

"N-no. I just meant that if you're not feeling very kill-y, what harm would it do to let me go a few days early?" Behind her, he was smirking. He liked her- he liked her logic, he liked her way of speaking, he liked her courage. Another verse began to take shape in his mind…she who stared down the lion yet had more reserves from which to draw- BAD SPIKE.

"So you'll study your pretty little arse off Tuesday night?"

"Oh, no, I'll look at my friend's notes. She takes really good notes."

"Tisk-tisk. That's not very scholarly."

"I'm not very scholarly."

"Shame."

"Well, you don't exactly scream 'bookworm' yourself." Ah, how wrong she was. She whose scent tingled the senses, making any sensible man's very self shrivel once removed from its tangible elusiveness.

It was definitely time for a nap.

He dragged the bike back to its hiding spot, all the while keeping a hand wrapped around Anne's wrist. He led her inside as he debated what to do with her. She wasn't confined to the crypt in a few hours like he was, and there were definitely some weapons strewn around that he didn't want to risk her playing with while he slept. Wooden ones, in particular. Whether or not she had the stones, figuratively speaking, to kill him was yet to be discovered. For now, he wanted rest, and she needed to be secured.

He dug a pair of handcuffs out of a box, and her eyes widened when she saw their glint in the candlelight.

"I'm gonna cuff you to the bed with all my possessions out of your reach. I will then go to sleep. You can't hurt me, so I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from attacking me with your bare hands, because I need the shut eye. You can sleep too, if you want. I haven't decided how I'm going to deal with you yet, so I won't kill you for a few hours." She said nothing as he backed her against the bed, and pushed her down. She went limp as he locked her down, and he jumped over her body, landing on her other side. "Sweet dreams, Anne." He then remembered that wasn't her real name. He'd ask her when he awoke.

Buffy lay silently, finding that the only comfortable position she could achieve with the handcuffs was to lie on her side, facing Spike. She'd watched Riley sleep once, though it was on the couch, and during a movie. She wasn't actually allowed to spend the night at his house yet. It would have provoked some not-fun questions from Joyce. Speaking of Joyce, she'd be pissed when Buffy didn't come home. She'd think she was at the Bronze, or with Riley. Buffy cringed as she thought about her mother's anger, and then became sad when she realized that Joyce would soon realize Buffy wasn't slinking around with her friends. She'd be crushed.

Time to focus on something else, she told herself. Something other than the pain her mother would endure if she lost her only child. So instead, she focused on Spike. He was different from Riley (apart from the obvious 'dead' and 'alive' thing) in that he didn't breathe. Well, that did kinda fit under the 'dead' category, but still. She'd watched Riley's chest move up and down for twenty minutes, letting the sounds of his lungs wash over her. Spike didn't breathe. His eyelids didn't flicker. He didn't twitch. She was, in all effects, lying next to a corpse. But, as did all corpses, he looked peaceful. Like he was beyond all earthly problems. Like nothing could touch him anymore.

She reached out and felt the tip of his nose with her fingertip, just to make sure the skin planned on staying there. She felt like he was in danger of decaying right before her eyes, his soul passing on as his body crumbled. And about that whole soul thing, how was it possible to not have one? A soul was a person, it was who they were. If they didn't have a soul, what prompted the bones and organs to do their thing? Shouldn't they be a vegetable?

What could be in Spike? Memories, apparently. That was obvious from the whole 'my mom was a great lady' thing. And emotions- he'd loved Drusilla. And a demon, according to Giles. So if a soul had just served as a conscious for Spike, there was apparently not as much to a soul as people hyped it up. But if it was just a conscious, then there must still be some of the human he had been many years ago left inside him. Feelings, and weaknesses.

It must have been all the deep thinking she was doing, but she came to a conclusion about her situation then. Spike would more than likely kill her if he wanted to, and not kill her if he didn't want to. No amount of good behavior or brownnosing could change that. So she resolved to make the most of her position, and unravel the mystery that was becoming more and more mysterious to her; who was Spike? It couldn't hurt, and she was fascinated with this creature that could kill without blinking and die without dying.

When Spike awoke a few hours later, she had curled up as far away from him as she could get; but she was sleeping. She had either been exhausted enough to fall asleep in the presence of a bad guy, or she was braver than he'd initially thought.

His lips curved into a smile. Who the hell was this little girl? She was terrified of him, but she still treated him like an equal. She talked to him. She didn't act like he was beneath her, or better than her.

His brain would have composed a verse concluding in the word 'enigma' at that moment, had he not stopped himself in time.


	8. Chapter 8

"**Me" – Yes, I suppose I do mean conscience. **

**Elie Norea - There will be NO Initiative in this story! I hate the Initiative, as well as the Watcher's Council. Why? I don't like humans coming in where they have no jurisdiction, and trying to boss the SLAYER, a mystical being that's been around since a long time ago, appointed by very powerful wise old men, around. Making one of my favorite scenes the one where the Council Building blows up! Boom! **

Buffy awoke, yawning, in a bed that was not her own. It was a lot nicer than the bed her parents had bought her in eighth grade- fluffier, softer, warmer. She tried to flip over onto her back, but something held her down.

Her eyes flew open as she screamed, remembering where she was. In Spike's crypt, in Spike's bed, in Spike's handcuffs.

"Give a bloke some warnin' before you do that!" Spike shouted from somewhere. She scooted up on the bed, so she could sit with her hands held behind her. She looked around, not seeing Spike, but realizing that someone (who else would it be?) had tucked her under the covers during the course of her sleep.

She heard movement across the room, as he came down a ladder. She'd forgotten about the ladder last night- it meant they were underground. Underground in a cemetery, in a crypt whose previous occupants might or might not still be present. But indeed, he'd made her climb down it last night.

"Can-can you untie me? Or uncuff me, technically?" she asked. The metal was rubbing against the spots where the Vampires at the factory had secured her, and it stung a little. "I won't run."

"Why should I trust you?" he asked, smirking when she bit her lip in thought. He'd been planning to let her up anyway, and just lock the doors. But this was more fun.

"I'll give you my shoes so I can't run." He cracked up as he took the key out of his pocket, and leaned over her to unlock the cuffs.

"That's a very interesting solution. Kay, I'll take your shoes." She rolled her wrists as she stood up, and one at a time slipped out of her sequined flats. They weren't very practical, but they were the latest style. Pretty much ANYTHING with sequins was in style. She handed them to him, and he furrowed his brow as he visibly debated what to do with the shoes. Finally, he sighed, and tossed them into a corner.

"Uh, I can still get them."

"See, you're not supposed to tell me that. Then you can escape later on when I'm not looking."

"You're letting me escape?"

"No, I'm just telling you what NOT to do when you're captured by Vampires."

"Okay. Noted." He ran a fingers through his hair, and she noticed for the first time that it wasn't gelled back like she always saw it. It was beginning to curl on the ends, and it didn't look so shiny anymore. He also had taken off that horrid duster, and stood in front of her in black jeans and a Sex Pistols t-shirt. He looked relatively normal. He looked kinda hot.

She looked away quickly before he could catch her checking him out. First of all, he was evil. You couldn't go around, checking out evil. And second, she was with Riley. Riley was her guy, and he probably wouldn't appreciate her thinking fluffy thoughts about another guy. In fact, she thought, she shouldn't be thinking fluffy thoughts- Spike was OLD, and he had that whole bad-boy thing working for him. Some girls went for that, but she found herself drawn to the nice boys. Boys you could take home to Joyce. Boys that would treat you right.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked her, breaking into her thoughts. He had moved across the room, and was looking at her from next to the ladder.

"You mean like bread and water?"

"Or ramen. I have lots of ramen. I like ramen."

"So you're willingly going to feed your hostage from your own food supply?"

"Is that wrong?"

"Yes that's wrong, because it's not like you're feeding me to keep me alive until you can work your diabolical plans on me! You're feeding me because you thought I might be hungry! You're a crappy captor!"

"Well, you're a crappy captive."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have much practice being held against my will."

"Yea, well, fine. I'm not feeding you. So there." They glared at each other. Her stomach rumbled.

"Ramen sounds good."

"Is beef okay?"

"Perfect."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

They were sitting with a foot between them on Spike's couch, both watching Cops as they ate noodles from separate bowls. She was using a fork; he was using chopsticks.

A thought struck her as she looked at the familiarity he was showing her. Spike didn't know what to do with her. He wasn't the one who had taken her, that had been an uglier, burlier Vampire, named Dorian according to what Spike had said before he untied her. She was now in his custody, though, and it didn't appear he'd ever meant for that to happen.

"Hey, Spike?" she asked. She was still afraid, but talking to him had proved not to be a problem.

"Yes kitten?"

"Why did you take me out of the factory?" He shrugged.

"Don't know. Wasn't thinkin' about it at the time."

"So you really have no idea what to do with me?" He growled.

"I'm the Big Bad! I'm gonna chop you to messes little girl, THAT'S what I'm going to do with you!" He hoisted noodle above his head with the chopsticks, slowly lowering the whole length of it into his mouth. "Not a bloody clue."

They continued eating and watching. Spike laughed as one of the criminals swung a bat at a cop, and Buffy silently cheered as the man was apprehended.

"I thought you lived at the factory," she said a few minutes later.

"Not much for company, luv."

"So you live here all by yourself, and commute?"

"Yes."

"Because?"

"Have you ever shared your bathroom with twenty immature, unwashed Vampires?" She wrinkled her nose.

"'Nuff said." He put his empty bowl down on the floor in front of him, and took a cigarette from his pocket. After lighting it and exhaling a plume of smoke, he took the remote from the couch arm, and turned the TV off. Buffy looked over at him with a noodle hanging from her mouth.

"What's your name?"

"Buffy," she replied before thinking. It came back to her then that she'd told him her name was Anne, and she'd planned on sticking to it ever after being captured.

"Buffy?" he asked. "Is that even a name?"

"Yes, it's a name!" she replied indignantly. "And it's better than Spike."

"Spike's a nickname. I put a railroad spike through the head of one of my critics." She squashed the feeling in the pit of her stomach away by refusing to focus on the 'through his head' part of the sentence.

"What's your real name, then?"

"William the Bloody."

"So William then. That's a nice name."

"William the Bloody."

"The Bloody is not part of you name. It is a title, one that angry villagers added on later, probably."

"If you can be Buffy, I can be The Bloody."

"No, Buffy is my name. It's on my birth certificate. The Bloody is NOT part of your name."

"We didn't do birth certificates in my day, so I can add whatever I want to my name."

"How old are you anyway?" He puffed himself out proudly.

"126."

"Wow. You could like be…my great-great grandpa."

"What are you, sixteen?"

"I'm seventeen."

"Not much difference."

"There is too."

"No there's not."

"You're really gonna fight me on this, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Fine. There are worlds of difference between sixteen and seventeen." He took another puff as Buffy checked off her victory in her head. He turned towards her again.

"I'm going to contact the Protector. Tell him I have his Buffy, and where to meet me for further information." She gasped.

"No! I will not be part of you plan to kill Giles! He's a nice man!" He smirked.

"Vampire, luv. It's my nature."

"I won't go along with whatever you have in mind."

"Hey, you're a prisoner, remember? Not your place to say yes or no."

"Oh yea." She ate another noodle. Spike was being so nice to her, it was periodically slipping her mind.

"I'll be goin' back to the factory in a few hours. I'll lock you in, but you may wander if you wish. Don't hurt yourself." She nodded. "What are you to the Protector, anyway?"

"What does that mean?"

"Rupert's a lonely old bloke. Him hangin' round with a seventeen-year-old blonde is a little suspicious. Is he your 'grownup friend' or something?"

"Ew! No! He's the librarian at my school!"

"Why were you in the library the day I came for the manuscript?"

"I was serving detention."

"Why were you helping him snoop around for my factory?"

"Because I drove you there. Oh, we found it, by the way. He knows where your Vamps are hiding." Spike grimaced.

"Ah. Forgot. Well, I should go now in that case. Help yourself to what little food I have, watch TV, read some books. I'll be back later."

"You know you're a horrible captor?" she scolded him as he grabbed his duster from a nearby chair, and shrugged into it.

"Would you like me to tie you up?" She shut her mouth. "Good girl. Don't even bother trying to escape, there's no point." He turned to go, but thought again. Coming back to her, he reached out and touched her chin with his long, cold fingers. She froze as he knelt on the couch in front of her, and slowly leaned in. His lips touched hers seconds before she screamed at the look in his eyes, and he coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. Then Buffy was gone.

Funny. She'd always thought Riley was a good kisser. He was the only boy not in her grade she'd ever kissed, and she judged accordingly. As Spike turned the kiss into a thousand little licks and nips, she decided she was going to have to reevaluate.

He pulled back with a smirk, watching her chest heave up and down and her face turn red.

"I'm considering keeping you around. Even the Big Bad gets lonely." He turned and left, making sure the doors wouldn't open to her.

She sat on the couch, immobile, for ten minutes after his departure. THAT had been unexpected. What did it mean? What did he mean when he was considering keeping her around? She shuddered from the memory as much as from the wave of fear that washed over her.

Standing up, she began to walk around with the intent of calming herself. She found downstairs, in the corner, a waist-high bookshelf. She sat Indian-style on the floor and looked through it. He had, it seemed, several volumes of poetry. Everything from Emily Dickinson to Shel Silverstein. She smiled at the fact that 'William the Bloody' owned "A Light in the Attic," and skimmed more titles. A lot of older books, some classics, some newer thrillers. He seemed to be quite the Anne Rice fan. But he liked Bram Stoker too.

She picked up "Carmilla," a rather thin, dusty novel. Of course, out of all the books she could have picked, it was a Vampire novel. She found it funny that he had quite the collection of Vampire novels, though she assumed they were more like satires for him. Being an actual Vampire, there were bound to be discrepancies and mistakes in the books that he would find amusing.

She set down to reading it, trying not to think about Giles. She prayed he didn't fall for whatever Spike was plotting. But at the same time, she hoped Giles didn't stake Spike. And not just because she'd eventually stave to death in here alone, but because she wasn't done unraveling his mysteries.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Giles paced back and forth. The FBI would be at the school in the morning, looking for traces of Buffy. At first, Snyder had assumed that she'd run out, but Joyce Summers had reported soon that Buffy was missing. And Giles knew that their nocturnal guests were to blame.

He took a drink of brandy from the glass sitting on his kitchen table. This was his fault. He'd gotten her involved, and now she was probably dead. It was Kendra all over again- he'd seen a girl with some potential, talked her parents into letting her come with him, and trained her. She'd been bitten. She'd been turned. She'd come after him and his fellow Protectors, and it had been the council's decision to take her out. He'd been disgusted with them at the time, and asked to take a Hellmouth position soon after that. By now he'd had enough time to think on the matter, and had come to the conclusion that there was nothing else the council could have done without putting innocent lives at risk. He had accepted it.

But if he met bumpy Buffy one of these days, he might not be able to accept it again.

The phone rang, and he picked it up absentmindedly.

"D'you know that the friendly operators will give you any number, but no address? You'd be dead by now if they were more cooperative." He felt like he was having a heart attack. Spike.

"I know you have her, you bastard."

"Buffy? Yes, she's with us. And I'm wondering how far you'd go to get her back." He choked. No…not an ultimatum.

"You just made your staking twice as painful, Spike. I'll dowse it in Holy Water."

"Won't say, eh? Well, you're working late tomorrow night. We'll be there around nine-ish to talk terms."

"You're a bastard, Spike."

"You're making me blush, Rupert. Be there." He hung up as Giles refilled his glass from the bottle a few feet away. He wasn't sure he could handle this, but he had to. He had to save Buffy, at whatever cost to him.


	9. Chapter 9

"So you want me to face the camera, show it my unbitten neck, and say 'Hi Giles, I'm fine.'"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Prisoners don't get to know the plan."

"I won't do it unless you tell me."

"How 'bout I bite you if you don't do it?"

"Then I can't show him an unbitten neck." He kicked at the crypt wall. She watched him from her spot on the bed, where she was curled up with The Scarlet Letter. She had never been much of a reader before, but she was devouring his collection with nothing else to do. TV had lost its appeal early on when she discovered that practically half of his channels were blue, and Spike didn't own any board games.

"Well, then, I'll bite your arm or something."

"Hey, wasn't this written before your time?"

"A little bit. My father was a merchant sailor, though, and he brought it back from America. It was causing quite the stir at the time."

"I can see why. An unwed mother being the main character during a time when women were thought to be all weak and evil."

"Exactly. Now will you do the ransom tape?"

"What are you holding me ransom for?"

"I really don't think the prisoner should get to ask questions like that."

"Well, I am. Tell me."

"I haven't decided yet. I was hoping to kill him at the meeting before I needed to work that out."

"No!" He groaned.

"You're difficult. You'll never get a man that way."

"I have a man." He raised his eyebrows.

"Do tell."

"He's a freshman at UC Sunnydale. We've been dating for almost six months." Spike looked genuinely interested.

"Huh. Well, how 'bout that. What's he like?" She shrugged and smiled, giddy to talk about her boyfriend.

"He's sweet. He holds my hand and opens doors for me. He calls me just to tell me he's thinking of me." Spike pretended to vomit on the floor as he sat down on the bed at her feet.

"What a wanker."

"I like it. He's perfect. We're in love, and we'll be together forever." She might have overdone it a bit with that last part, but Spike was looking at her so incredulously that she couldn't help but try and further justify herself and Riley.

"Perfection is overrated. As is 'together forever'." She understood that he was speaking about Drusilla, and turned the conversation away before he had the chance to get weepy or violent.

"I have a fabulous idea. How about you let me go so I can test those theories of yours out on Riley."

"How about I keep you locked up forever, and see if Prince 'Riley' comes to rescue you?"

"Riley doesn't know where I am."

"Well, he's not a very good prince then, is he?"

"He's better than some." She tossed her head and went back to her reading. Her English teacher would be proud of her.

"Was that a jab, sweet Buffy?" he asked with a smirk. "Because if I recall, I untied you and took you back to my castle."

"You're holding me against my will," she pointed out.

"Well, you're livin' mighty large in captivity. Books, food, free to roam, cable…"

"I'm still not allowed to leave."

"Yea, well maybe I'm not letting you go out there for your own safety. Ever think of that?"

"You're full of it, Spike."

"You can say shit, luv. I won't get mad. Or are you all prudish?" She shook her head.

"I am not a prude!"

"Straight-laced."

"Stop!"

"Stick up the ass."

"Spike!"

"Blushing virgin."

"Ha! There you go, I'm not a virgin." The humor was gone from his eyes as he sized her up.

"You're just a baby," he finally said, getting off the bed. She huffed as he walked away from her.

"Then why did you kiss me yesterday?" It was the first time either of them had said anything about it. He shrugged, turning back to face her.

"Wanted to." She frowned. "Look, Buffy, I'm still not sure what to do with you. It hasn't been so horrible having you around, but I can't just keep you here until you finish readin' all my books. What then?"

"So you thought you could use me as a plaything? Is that right?" she asked, catching his meaning.

"Maybe."

"But I thought I was just a baby."

"I've done worse, pet." She shrunk back against the headboard. Since he'd brought her to the crypt, looks of fear came fewer and farther between. But now, the look she was giving him made up for lost time.

Unable to bear her hazel stare, he decided to go out. It wouldn't be dark for a few hours, but he could use the sewers. Go to Willy's. Have a gay old time.

"I'll be back." He had long ago perfected the art of climbing the ladder using only two rungs, and did so with her eyes still upon him.

He ran to the sewer entrance covered in a blanket, still going over what had just happened. The look she gave him…disappointed. Like she'd thought he had a soft spot for his victim, but then discovered the kindness he had showed her just came out of indecision.

"I will not let the bitch make me feel guilty," he told himself. "No. Not lettin' her." He'd come back later, threaten her into doing the tape thing for Giles, and be on his way. He'd murder the Protector in cold blood, and then he'd be free to spend all his time debating what to do with Buffy. By the time a new Protector had arrived, she'd be dead. Or turned. Or his personal plaything, like she had said. One of the three.

'Or she'd be taking her math test' the back of his mind felt inclined to point out. He snorted. Like hell HE, Spike, William the Bloody, the Big Bad, Master Vampire of Sunndale, was going to let Buffy go. No way. She'd be dead first.

He scowled at the thought of killing her. She'd give him that look again when he cornered her, and he didn't like the effects the look had on him. He'd kill her when she wasn't looking. No, that wouldn't be fun. With a sigh, he ruled out that option. Looked like he'd be turning her. But no, with Giles gone, he wouldn't have anyone to torture with a Vamped Buffy. And she didn't look like she'd be much good in a fight- skinny and small was what she was. He thought back to what he'd told her about Darla, another tiny blonde bint, but Darla had been corrupted from the start. Before she died, she'd been a disgrace to humanity. She belonged in the darkness. Buffy wasn't cut out for unlife.

Well then, she'd be his pet. Maybe even wear a collar. His and his alone. But how long could that really last, before she lost her looks and her spirit? A few years, maybe a decade at most. Plus, there'd be that whole eyes thing again.

And he bloody wasn't just going to let her go.

'Spike, buddy, you're out of options.' It was true- he'd ruled out all four possible choices. Maybe he'd be able to reevaluate after a few beers. And not the watered-down American kind, the good stuff.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Giles paced anxiously back and forth. Spike and Co. were supposed to have been there ten minutes ago. He fiddled with the stake stashed in his sleeve. Maybe they weren't planning on showing up at all. Maybe they were dowsing the school with gasoline as he paced, and were planning to blow it and him hundreds of feet into the air. That wouldn't be at all unlike him.

Except Spike would know better than to mess with the Hellmouth's door like that. It was probably the only thing that had kept him from sending the school up in flames years ago.

Noises in the hallway brought Giles out of his musings, and he gritted his teeth as four younger Vampires walked in. Spike was behind them, dragging a handcuffed…Buffy!

"I was going to make you a tape, but she wouldn't cooperate."

"Buffy, are you alright?" Giles asked, ignoring Spike's comment. His eyes were fixed on the blonde Vampire, but he didn't respond.

"I'm fine. But it's a trap, Giles! Run!" Spike poked her hard in the ribs, eliciting a squeal.

"Buffy, your mother and friends are worried sick about you." He wasn't going to run. Saving innocent girls like Buffy from monsters like Spike, that was his calling.

"Am I in trouble for leaving Snyder's office? Because I didn't want to, but DORIAN took me." She glared at the Vampire a few feet in front of her, as he smiled a sick smile to himself. Giles momentarily raised his eyebrow. The Vampires had Buffy on a first name basis with themselves?

"You were, but then it was discovered you had been abducted. How do you know that Vampire's name?"

"Oh, Spike told me when he took me out of the factory." She said it so breezily that a feeling of dread began to wind around Giles' neck. Tighter and tighter…

"Spike, prove to me she's still human." Please. Please prove it. Spike smirked as he gave Buffy a little push forward, sending her sprawling to the floor, her bound hands not doing much to break her fall.

"Get some Holy Water." Buffy was not happy about being made to lay face-down as her librarian poured cold water on the back of her neck, but when he was satisfied, the Vamps made a circle around her.

"Stay down, Buffy," Spike ordered. She rolled her eyes as she complied. Strangely, she wasn't very afraid. It didn't seem likely that Spike would let any of their four companions hurt her, Dorian included, so he was the only one she was worried about. And she just couldn't see him killing her quickly, then and there. With all the thinking he had been doing about her lately, she was betting on a more extravagant murder, if that was the path he chose for her. So she just watched from the floor, afraid only for Giles.

"You said we would talk terms," Giles began calmly. He was slightly more relaxed now that he knew Buffy was unharmed.

"Yes. I want that poison brewin' book you have."

"And you'll give me Buffy?"

"Sure. We'll give you Buffy. But before the transaction can take place, we need to make sure you're unarmed." He nodded, and two of the Vampires came forward. Giles put his hands on the wooden table in front of him, and spread his legs slightly. He'd gotten into a spot of trouble when he was a teenager, trying to summon demons with his friends. It hadn't worked, but they'd been accused of breaking and entering a magic shop anyway. So he remembered the pat-down drill.

He sensed it almost before it happened. Spike's generosity was not to be trusted, and one of the Vampires standing next to him lunged for his neck. He swiveled and stabbed its chest with his hidden stake, watching it turn to dust in front of his eyes.

"Up, Buffy!" Spike yelled, throwing her over his shoulder again as soon as she was on her feet. Giles dusted the second Vamp, and the other two looked to Spike for guidance.

"We're getting the prisoner out," he commanded, and all three ran. Buffy could see Giles, as she was facing backwards, so she was the first to notice him standing in the library doors- with a crossbow. It hit the Vampire that wasn't Dorian, and now only he and Spike were running. Spike swore as he signaled to Dorian to split up, and Giles raced after the two of them as Dorian took a shortcut through her history classroom.

"Damn," he said in a very annoyed tone as he stumbled. Buffy screamed as she fell to the floor with him, and looked at the wooden arrow protruding from the back of his knee. "Ouch." Buffy looked up as Giles barreled down upon them, and made her decision without thinking. She yanked the arrow out, causing Spike to howl.

"Run." His eyes met hers, as he saw her sitting there with a bloody arrow in her still bound hands. Giles was almost to them, screaming at HER to run. "Run. He'll kill you," she said in a 'duh' tone. He heaved himself to his feet and took off, running faster without her, even as he limped. Giles reached her as she realized her tailbone was throbbing where she'd fell.

"Ow!" Her shriek of pain caused him to join her on the floor, anxiously checking her for injuries, instead of following Spike. She breathed a sigh of relief as he threw himself through a door that led to the outside. And then realized how wrong it was to have helped her captor escape. She really was a crappy captive.

"Are you alright?" he asked again. She nodded, wincing as he pulled her to her feet. "Let's get those things off you." He led her back to the library, not noticing in his relief that she had been holding his arrow when he reached her. And if he did, he blocked it out. There was no way Buffy would have helped Spike, so he didn't even go there.

He made her tea, and had her sit in his view on one of the tables, wrapped in a blanket he'd procured from the nurse's office. He called the police to say that Buffy had wandered back to the place she'd been kidnapped from, and that she appeared to be alright. He gave her a pre-invented story about two men, descriptions included, who had thought she was a rich girl to be ransomed, but soon found out from the news that Joyce Summers was a single mother, without much money. She had a certain respect for Giles as she listened to him explain the story to her, throwing out all sorts of minor details to tell the law. She'd never realized how hard his job was- every unexplained supernatural occurrence, he had to find a humanly believable story to explain it. She'd always trusted in the police, thinking the black and white thoughts that they were good guys, and good guys caught bad guys and made them pay for what they'd done. Now, however, after spending not even three days in the company of Vampires, she knew that wasn't true. There was nothing they could do about the demons and Vampires who roamed the earth, because they were themselves above human laws. Giles, as a human, had to follow earthly laws AND higher authority's laws. He had really gotten the short straw here.

"Buffy!" her mother rushed in, followed by Riley and some cops. Joyce embraced her daughter, planting kisses all over her face and forehead. "I was so worried…I'm so sorry, honey…"

"Miss, we have several questions we'd like to ask you," one of the cops began, but Giles stepped in.

"I believe Miss Summers has had quite the difficult night. May I suggest you do this tomorrow?" Joyce and Riley seconded that, so the officers reluctantly backed off.

"Thank you Mr. Giles, thank you so much!"

"It really wasn't anything, Ms. Summers. Just take Buffy home, and let her sleep." Buffy stood up, her mother's arms around her as she walked towards the door. Then she remembered something.

"Uh Giles? Could I check out a book?" Everyone in the room stared at her, particularly the three who knew she wasn't much of a reader.

"Which book?" he finally asked.

"The Scarlet Letter." She'd never finished it. Everyone was silent as Giles

retrieved it from a shelf, stamped a card, and requested that Buffy signed the inside cover of the book. She took it with a smile, and let her mother lead her to the car, Riley following.


	10. Chapter 10

Buffy sat up in bed, her friends surrounding her. Willow, Xander, and Riley were all in her room the day after she'd been returned, gratefully trying to entertain the depressed girl. There was just one problem in this; Buffy wasn't depressed.

"She'll be in shock. She might not want to eat, and she might do some pretty uncharacteristic things. Kidnapping victims as a whole have a history of trying to hurt themselves when the shock is still fresh," an agent had told her mother. So Joyce was liberally sending up snacks, while letting Buffy have some chill time with her friends. But she still wasn't depressed.

"You're so brave," Willow commented when Buffy pointed this out. Her eyes strayed to the book on Buffy's nightstand, taking it as further proof that Buffy wasn't herself. "I'd have freaked out." Buffy was getting a little tired of her friends walking on eggshells, trying to comfort her without admitting aloud what had supposedly happened to her. Several 'I'd have done this' and 'you're so' statements had been directed at her, without ever mentioning the situation they'd have done something in, or that she'd be so something in.

"Mm-hmm. Willow, can I see those notes?" She'd asked Willow to bring her notes for tomorrow's math test, but the red head hadn't whipped them out as soon as she walked in the room. For Willow, that was rare.

"Buffy, you can't go to school tomorrow! You're still not feeling well!"

"I'm feeling fine Will. And I don't really think Mr. Crane will consider being kidnapped an adequate excuse to miss his test."

"But-"

"Please Willow. I need to do good on this test." Willow forked her notebook over with a defeated sigh, as the doorbell rang. Downstairs, they could hear Giles's voice as he enquired as to Buffy's condition, and then asked if he might see her?

"Buffy, are you feeling up to visitors?" her mother asked her a minute later, peeking her head in the teen's room.

"I'm FINE, Mom." Joyce invited the librarian up the stairs, and as she showed him into Buffy's room, Buffy caught the goofy smile her mom shot Giles. He returned it nervously as Buffy rolled her eyes. She hated it when her mother flirted in front of her.

"Hello Buffy. I was just calling to check up on your condition."

"Calling? More like showing up."

"Oh, yes. I suppose it's a British term." British. Spike was British. Spike was apparently Victorian British, even though he had a rougher accent. How his voice had taken that up, she wanted to know. Yet another mystery she hadn't been able to solve. Of course she was grateful to be back home, and away from the crazy creature-of-the-night side of Spike, but she found herself slightly disappointed to be taken away from the man who'd made her ramen noodles.

"I'm quite fine then, good chap. See, I speak British."

"I'm quite impressed. I also wanted to inquire when you would be returning to school?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! Buffy, you've been though a great deal! More than anyone would imagine!" He shot a glance around the room at that moment, letting her know he was referring to her blissfully clueless friends and mother.

"Killer math test."

"I don't think-"

"I'm going, alright people?" Everyone stared at her, her outburst making them gape. "I'm going to school tomorrow, and I want to go to the Bronze tomorrow night. I feel fine, like I've said a hundred times, and I just want to go back to my normal life." Giles nodded.

"Of course. I understand. I'd like to discuss something with you once you return to school, if that's okay with you. Just come by the library any time." She answered affirmatively, and Joyce left to show him out. She could hear the two talking for some time downstairs, so she just kept up a conversation with her friends to drown the adults out.

"Do you three want to hit the Bronze with me? It'll be like a double date." She laughed internally as Willow turned red, and Xander sputtered. The two kinda had crushes on each other, had had them for some time. But they were terrified to admit their feelings to the other. Buffy had heard both of their confessions, and had been trying to throw them together for months now.

"If you're still convinced you feel fine tomorrow, I guess," Xander stuttered.

"Of course," Riley answered from where he sat next to her, holding her hand.

"Cool. Let's meet there at nine?"

"Sounds good," Willow answered. The three then made up three lame excuses for why they had to leave, because Joyce had told them she wanted Buffy to get some rest around four o'clock. She watched them go before picking up her book, and continuing where she had left off the night before. The school's copy wasn't anywhere near as old as Spike's, but years of student abuse had reduced it to far worse conditions than the lovingly worn novel, with it's beige cover and crooked black typewriter font, that she'd started on.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Giles rubbed his eyes as he climbed into bed. It was only nine, but he'd had a rough last couple of days. What with Buffy being kidnapped, he'd forgone sleeping to try and find her as soon as possible. When dealing with Vampires, time was of the essence.

Sadly, Spike's forces had a few former witches in their ranks. One of them, a younger girl named Amy, had been a Wicca student at Sunnydale High just a few years ago. So locating spells were rendered useless. Giles had, however, gone to the factory during daylight, use a short-range locator spell that had proven effective in the past. It created a tiny, glowing orb that would scope out the location quickly before reporting back to it's creator. Because it was less of a spell and more of a magical probe (there were differences, even if Giles didn't understand them), barriers couldn't keep them out. He'd planned on discerning where in the factory the Vampires were keeping her, but it had returned without results.

They weren't keeping Buffy at the factory. The news was a blow to him- he'd been ready to storm in, stakes a-blazing. But this put a damper on his plans. He'd been at a complete loss as to how to proceed. And just when he'd been ready to contact the Vampires himself, Spike had called.

Buffy was back now. That was all that mattered. Spike had escaped, and a funny feeling still lingered around the whole event, but she was back, and she was safe. He was going to start training her as soon as possible, teaching her how to stake and some basic self-defense moves, just to make sure she'd be safe in the future against any new Spike plans. And he was going to lend some more sophisticated Wicca books to her friend Willow, containing protection spells and shield charms.

Every little bit helped.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

The electronica song seemed to mimic her heartbeat as she spun around in Riley's arms, letting her hands rest on his waist. He smiled at her as his farm-boy hair fell in his eyes, making him look even cuter. She couldn't believe she'd ever considered Spike to be hot- she'd take the soft brown locks any day over Gwen Stefani-blonde tresses.

Still, as she thought this, she couldn't help but wonder what color lurked under the blonde. And she had to appreciate Spike's hair as it was; not even Eminem could pull off the peroxide look that well. With dear Em, it just looked like a gimmick. With Spike, well, it was Spike. She couldn't imagine what he'd look like with any other color hair, though she'd like to find out.

"It's getting late," she heard Riley say over the noise of the next song. She pouted, not wanting to go, but he tilted his head towards the table where Xander and Willow were sitting in silence. She sighed. Once again, her attempts to get them together hadn't worked.

"Let's go, guys," she told them as soon as she reached the table. Willow looked relieved to have the silence broken, though Xander appeared disappointed. Even though Buffy knew he was nowhere near telling Willow how he felt, the look on his faced resembled being interrupted just when his confession of love was on the tip of his tongue. She'd seen this look before, and knew what it meant; he was mentally kicking himself for not saying anything when he had the chance.

They four of them walked out of the Bronze together, Riley holding Buffy's hand while Xander and Willow kept a safe distance between themselves.

"So, Buffy, how was your math test?" Xander asked, trying to make small talk. Buffy responded by telling him the subtleties of each problem, until a scream came from somewhere near. Willow and Xander jumped, while Riley pulled Buffy into her arms automatically.

In an abandoned house just a few hundred feet from the Bronze, Spike was eagerly slurping up his latest victim when he felt it. Buffy. Raising his bloody face, and allowing the demon visage to slip from it, he sniffed the air in wonder. He hadn't thought he'd ever see her again, and it was just a few days later. Fate is funny like that.

He'd fully intended on bringing her back from the library with him. His bed was still indented where she'd spend most of her day reading, her scent lingered on everything he owned, and there was a bag of stolen girly shampoo and a towel stashed behind a chair. She'd been complaining about wanting to take a shower, but he didn't have girly shampoo or towels. So he'd nicked some just for her, and had been planning to unveil her presents after Giles was dead. A peace offering, because he knew she liked the old man.

Now, they were both just reminders that she wasn't there anymore. And, to his surprise, he missed her. He'd meant what he said when he told her he was lonely, and he felt like they had unfinished business. Both added up to the crazy, but possibly true, conclusion that he liked the human girl.

Crazy as it was, just smelling her now was bringing a smile to his face, and he began to wonder if there actually was something in him that cared just a smidge about Buffy.

He got to his feet and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his duster. Bounding down the stairs, he flew out the door and headed down the alley directly for a group of four kids, Buffy one of them.

Their scents were vaguely familiar, Buffy having worn them the night she came to him. But one of them, a boy with his hair falling in his eyes and his arms around Buffy, rang a familiar bell in Spike's mind.

Prince Riley. His smell was all over Buffy, inside and out. Spike growled before he could control it, and the small group heard him.

"Who are you?" Buffy's boyfriend asked, trying to sound threatening. The other two in the gang looked scared, but Buffy was gazing at him with a look so…glad.

"You're okay," he heard her whisper, thanks to his superior hearing, and he remembered the arrow wound.

"S'nothing," he directed at her, basking in the warmth of her smile when she realized she'd been heard.

"I said, who are you?"

"He's a friend." Everyone in the alley looked at Buffy, wondering where in the world she'd become acquainted with such a punk. "How have you been?"

"Bored," he said, the first thing that came to his mind. He wanted Riley far away from her; the dork was practically pressing Buffy up against him.

"I'd have thought you'd have scheming and plotting to keep you busy."

"Yea, 'cause that's sooo interesting."

"I'm curious, what do you do for fun? I mean, other than the obvious." Riley, Willow, and Xander didn't need to know that the definition of 'obvious' involved massive bloodshed.

"There's a Bowie concert next month, in LA. I've considered turning Bowie in the past, but I think it'd have too much of an effect on his music. So now I just go see his show whenever he's in town." Buffy chuckled, while Red, Whelp, and Prince Riley looked confused.

"My mom will be worried if I don't get home soon. So I'll see you around?"

"Our paths just tend to cross." He gave her a faint smile as he turned and headed for his graveyard.

He was halfway there before he remembered his forgotten prey, much less the bitable-looking humans Buffy had been with. He hadn't even given thought to biting them in her presence.

He stopped walking as he took a deep, unnecessary breath to clear his head. Okay, it was becoming apparent. He didn't hate the girl. But that was all he would admit to.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Buffy shrieked wildly as she closed in on Giles. The Library was closed to students during today's lunch period, because Giles had insisted on pulling her away from her important social engagements to "train."

"I want you to be more than prepared should you ever find yourself in a similar situation than the one you faced mere days ago."

"The Vampires will be wearing pads like that?" She indicated the puffy armor he had donned before giving her a blunt stake. He dodged her as she swung again, missing again. "Dammit! Stop moving!"

"This is supposed to be combat training. Stopping movement would defeat the purpose." She managed to hit his chest, but it was nowhere near his heart. Giles grabbed her arm, and tried to be as gentle as he could as he twisted it in back of her. He leaned forward as if to bite her.

"If you miss the heart, it's worse than not connecting at all. The force of the blow will take you precious seconds to recover, while the Vamp can have his way with your close-range neck." As he pulled his face away, he noticed for the first time that there were no bite marks on her neck. He hadn't necessarily assumed there would be, but after a few days of wondering exactly WHAT Buffy had been through (because the girl wasn't talking,) he was starting to get confused.

She'd been in Spike's clutches for more than 48 hours, and it didn't appear she'd been harmed at all. She had a few scratches that had already healed, that's how minor they were, and a bump on her head. As well as the tailbone injury which she had gotten when Spike dropped her to make his escape.

And that was another fishy thing, Spike's escape. He'd just dropped the girl and ran. Pulled the arrow Giles KNEW had connected out of his leg, dropped Buffy, and ran. That was rather un-Spike-like behavior. And even if Spike had gone chicken, as the Americans said, and left her, he'd have hunted her down soon enough. Giles was fairly confident that was the case, and was waiting for the shoe to drop any minute now, practically.

Thus, training.

"Aye-yah!" she yelled as her stake crashed through his musings, hit directly over his heart, and send him stumbling backwards into one of the tables. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"I'll live," he chuckled wryly as he stripped off the padding. It was getting close to the end of Buffy's lunch period, and he needed to shelve some books before student groups came in anyway.

"That means I can go?" she asked hopefully, interpreting his action. He nodded.

"For only your second day, that was very impressive. Granted, you caught me off guard, but I'm still proud. Yes, you may go." She grinned as she turned and headed towards the doors. "Buffy?"

"Yea?"

"My stake." She looked at the weapon in her hand.

"I thought you wanted me to carry one at all times."

"Yes, but a sharp one. Not that thing." He emitted a tiny sigh as she handed it over, and he replaced in her hand a thinner, sharper splinter of wood.

"Thanks. I'm still sorry about losing Mr. Pointy," she apologized sheepishly. She knew Mr. Pointy held some memories, good and painful, for Giles. But Spike had confiscated him.

"It wasn't your fault. Have a nice day," he said as she departed. Once she was gone, he began to straighten the chairs that had been pushed out of the way during their fight. He had focused mainly on avoiding attacks while trying to hit the heart these past two days, and while she wasn't ready for a just-risen Vamp yet, he saw an opportunity for progress. Soon, he'd start to teach her how to fight back. A few simple kicks and punches. And more defensive maneuvers- ducking and jumping. Oh, and maybe a little weaponry…nothing major, but it couldn't hurt for Buffy to know how to handle a short sword, would it?

He realized he was basically training her exactly in Kendra's image, but he couldn't help himself. If Buffy was for all intents and purposes a Protector, so be it. The council wouldn't know, and she'd be capable of taking care of herself. She'd be able to fight off Spike once Giles was dead, and the new Sunnydale Protector didn't know to keep the menace away from the Miss Summers.

Thinking of Miss Summers made him thing of the other Ms. Summers, Joyce Summers to be exact. Unbeknownst to Buffy, he was taking her mother out to lunch tomorrow. When Joyce had originally called him, quite unexpectedly, having gotten his number out of the school directory, she'd suggested dinner. The excuse 'I can't be busy at night because I have a feeling a man is planning on eating your daughter' wouldn't fly, but he'd stammered out something with the effects of making her suggest lunch.

Lunch was good. Eat lunch with the older Summers by day, keep the younger Summers from becoming lunch by night.


	11. Chapter 11

"Please Mom, just let me go to the Bronze with Riley tonight? I'll be the best daughter ever."

"I already think you are, Buffy. But that doesn't mean I'm overly fond of you."

"You're already going out with Giles. You won't be home, and you wouldn't want the best daughter ever staying home to an empty house on a Friday night, would you?" Joyce sighed. It'd been a month since she'd begun seeing Rupert, and she was falling hard. At first, the man had refused to go out with her at night, but over time, he'd become more willing. Joyce just didn't know that it was because zero Spike sightings had occurred.

Buffy's 'training' had progressed to moderate defense, and basic offense. It wouldn't help her against Spike, but if a really stupid minion stumbled in her path, she could take the sucker out. Her words, not Giles's.

"Fine. But I want you back by 10:30, and I WILL call here at precisely 10:30."

"You're suggesting you won't be back by 10:30?"

"I don't know exactly what we're going to do after dinner yet." Buffy nodded as she hugged her mother.

"Thank you Mom! I'll be home by then!" Joyce smiled as Buffy ran upstairs to find something suitable to wear to the Bronze.

It managed to take Buffy over an hour to find a stringy red halter top and tight black pants. She was pinning her hair up in some or other sexy twist when Joyce knocked on her bathroom door and requested to borrow hairspray.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it must be your other mother who lets you leave the house looking like that." Buffy rolled her eyes as she held out the desired hairspray, and Joyce entered the room to take it.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It must be my other mother whose dignity would prevent her from ever leaving the house looking like that." Joyce anxiously looked at herself in the mirror, standing next to Buffy.

"It isn't too much, is it?" she asked nervously. Buffy had to smile at the look on her mother's face. Giles was a good friend and teacher to her, but she knew he was a lot more to her mom.

"Tell you what. You don't say anything about my halter top, I won't say anything about that skirt. Speaking of, when did you get that? The eighties?"

"Somehwere around there, yes." Joyce headed back to her own bathroom, still pulling on her skirt to see if it was capable of covering more skin than it did at present.

Riley and Giles managed to arrive at the same time to pick the Summers girls up, so awkwardly the men made small-talk as their dates put the finishing touches on their stunning outfits.

Giles didn't mind Riley, because he'd never heard anything but positive remarks from both his girlfriend and Buffy about him. Riley, on the other hand, did not like Giles's sudden protectiveness over the girl who, in his mind, was only the daughter of his new girlfriend. There was a bond there, however, that was forged from experiencing near-death situations together, bearing the burden of being the only ones to know the painful truths about the world, and training together to fight those very truths. But if that wasn't enough, Giles had been willing to give his life to save Buffy, and though she didn't know how strong his resolve had been, she silently understood some of the sacrifices he had made by showing up at the time and place requested by Spike in hopes of rescuing her. Buffy hadn't heard from Hank Summers in weeks, and if her father wasn't careful, Giles could easily and skillfully fill his shoes. He was well on his way already.

"Bye Mom, bye Giles."

"Buffy, for the hundredth time, you can feel free to call me Rupert outside of school hours."

"But you're Giles."

"I understand it may be hard for you to be on a first-name basis with someone you regard somewhat as a teacher, but you make it sound so uncomfortable to have me around your house."

"No, if I was doing that, I'd say Mr. Giles." He exhaled as he raised his hand in goodbye to Buffy and Riley who were already halfway down the front walk.

"Giles is getting on my nerves," Riley commented as they were almost at the Bronze.

"What? Why?"

"All the pressuring you to call him by his first name. If you're not comfortable, say something to your mom."

"No, that's not it. It's not a comfort thing at all, I've just…always called him Giles. Calling him Rupert sounds weird, not awkward." He didn't look convinced. "Look, Riley, my mom's dated some losers in the past. There was this jerk named Ted that sticks out first and foremost- he tried to control both of us. But now she's with a really sweet, caring, protective-but not overprotective- guy, who it just so happens that I already had a good relationship with before he became her boyfriend. We're both happy that Giles is around now. And if you're very vocal in your dislike of him, it might cause problems." He sighed.

"What if I be quiet in my dislike of him?" She smiled, and stopped walking to give him a light kiss on the lips.

"That'd be a good start. Though I actually think you would like him if you tried." He shrugged, and they continued walking.

A few minutes after ten, he suggested that they leave. She pouted; they'd been having a great time, dancing during some songs, and sitting and talking during others. He had been telling her about a killer professor who seemed bent on failing him, mimicking the man's voice and gestures, making Buffy laugh.

"We need to leave now if we're going to get you home by curfew."

"Well set your watch back a few minutes, one more dance." She stuck out her lower lip, and Riley gave in soon after.

"Fine. One more dance." She beamed as he took her hand and led her back towards the dance floor. As they took their places near the edge of the crowd, and began moving to the remixed Biggie song that had just came on, it felt like her heart stopped, her breathing halted, and her guts fell to the floor.

That was due to the fact that she'd just seen a Vampire in game face, something she had hoped very much to never ever see again. The whole time she had been captured, none of the Vamps had let their human face slip, but by intent or oversight she didn't know. Even Spike had refrained from one of the few things that could terrify her shitless in her Zen-like state of mind.

"Buffy?" Riley was asking, and she realized she was on the floor. Strange faces peered down at her, as Riley tried to get people away from her. "Back off, she's hurt!"

Strong arms lifted her easily from the ground, and she was carried out of the Bronze into the clear night air. She didn't know who'd lifted her; all she knew was that it hadn't been Riley. She knew this because this person didn't smell like her cuddly boyfriend, and because her cuddly boyfriend was currently running and screaming after her.

"Put her down, you son of a bitch!"

"Riley?" she asked hesitantly, reaching a hand out towards him.

"Shhh, little birdie. Spikey's gotcha."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

By the time he was setting her down, she had mostly recovered. When she turned to him, she saw with relief that he looked normal, and slightly worried.

'Spike was worried about me?' In spite of herself, she smiled. She knew very well that a demon face lurked behind his sharp cheekbones, and twin sapphire eyes, but her reaction was still that of any teenager girl realizing their crush MIGHT reciprocate some of their feelings.

'I have a crush on Spike? Huh. That's new.' But it wasn't. For a month, she'd seen nothing of him. Giles only said that Spike hadn't shown up trying to kill him lately, and beyond that, he didn't know anything else. She'd been worried also. Another Protector, or a rival Vampire Master could have showed up and turned him to dust. And no one would ever know, because every pile of dust looked exactly alike. 126 years of hard, if evil, work…just gone. Reduced to nothingness.

He'd said he would see her around, and she'd been keenly awaiting for whenever that would be. She missed his company, missed his eyes, missed his style of doing things. Add that to the worry, and she'd been craning her neck for him whenever she went out at night lately. But she hadn't seen him, and so hadn't been able to confirm the slight suspicion she'd always managed to squish down with a quick thought about Riley. She saw him standing in front of her now, and she knew. She liked Spike.

"Where are we?" she asked as she got to her feet, half-reeling from this development, and half-blushing. She knew she was with Riley, and she knew what lurked within Spike, but she couldn't help twirling a loose lock of hair around her finger as she spoke. Half out of nervousness, half out of flirtatiousness. Spike was beginning to tear her in two after only a few minutes in his presence. Wow, she had it bad.

"Old abandoned house near the Bronze."

"In the center of town? That's prime real estate, why is it abandoned?"

"Well, I'm not entirely positive the realtors know the owners don't really live here anymore. They've since relocated to the factory." She cringed good-naturedly, wondering if Riley had followed them. When she voiced this, however, he shook his head. "Lost the wanker early on. Not much of a tracker, is he?"

"Nope. Wait, back up a minute, you said you were at the factory? Giles swept the place; said there was no one there."

"Well, when they came to live with us, we were there. We have moved, though. I'd tell you where to, but I'm not entirely sure I trust you."

"Hey, I saved your life with that arrow thingy."

"Yes, but you've been training with the Protector a lot lately. Or, that's what my spies tell me." She squirmed happily at the info that he was spying on her. Or maybe not her in particular, but news of her was getting back to him.

"So I'm like a double agent?" she asked, eyes widening at the thought. She'd apparently gone from being normal-as-pie Buffy to double-agent Buffy, and it was a cool thought. 

"You haven't truly lived 'til you've fought on both sides of a major war." She grinned as she sat down on the floor, him following.

"How have you been, Spike?" He smirked.

"Wonderin' about me, have you been?"

"Just a little. I was scared something had happened to you."

"Not really. Movin' took a lotta time, and a slew of nonblood minions poured in from other towns, wanting training in exchange for allegiance. Turned some of 'em down, but I do have some new recruits."

"I'm not sure how I respond to that. Congratulate you? Call pest control?"

"Just nod and smile, kitten." She nodded and smiled. "And how have you been, Buffy Summers?"

"You found out my last name," she accused with an arched eyebrow.

"Was in the paper, talkin' about your kidnappin'."

"Well, I'm fine. I was at the Bronze with Riley tonight, and I have been training with Giles lately. I could probably take you now if I wanted to." He cracked up.

"You'd do no such thing."

"Oh, I think I could."

"Where's your stake?" She looked at her outfit, remembering the tight pants didn't offer pocket space.

"Or not." She was still looking at her pants as he pounced, tackling her to the floor with a loud gasp. The moonlight pouring in from a grimy window illuminated his white-blonde hair as he smirked from atop her, holding her down. She wiggled underneath him on the floor, not sure if what to do.

"You couldn't take me, my little Protectette."

"That's not a word," she felt compelled to point out. He lowered himself so his teeth were inches from her neck, and closing. Gasping again as he began to nibble with human teeth, he laughed against her skin.

"You're so pretty. You shouldn't be 'taking' Vampires." Oh, girlish giddiness does not mix well with mortal terror. She felt like she was about to explode.

"Why'd you collapse inside?" he asked a few minutes later, when he had apparently decided that his teeth had had their fun with her neck, and moved on to his tongue. She could barely think, much less answer.

"Saw someone. With game face," she muttered.

"You could have been hurt. Tonight was open buffet."

"Didn't know." He finally stopped his administrations, looking closely as he pulled back to make sure he hadn't left any visible evidence. He had a feeling Buffy would be upset if he did, so he merely stood up and helped her to her feet when it became apparent she couldn't do it herself. He could see her cheeks flaming through the darkness, and the satisfaction it gave him would have made him blush as well, if he could.

"We should get you back to your prince," he said quietly, frowning as he spoke the words. His inner demon growled. No. Buffy MINE. No Prince. He silenced it with a mental kick, and took her hand to lead her down to the street. She still looked quite dazed, but pleased. Now it was his inner ponce coming out to growl. Or at least mutter. Buffy is a nice girl. Spike is bad for nice girls.

'I know I'm bad for Buffy. That's the reason why I'm returnin' her,' he spoke sanely to the voice in his head. Around the corner, Riley was practically weeping as he tried to explain to a police officer what had happened.

"Some guy…blonde hair…took my girlfriend."

"Riley." She spoke clearly, and confidently. Her voice carried from yards away to his ears, as the policeman saw her walking hand-in-hand with Spike, and rolled his eyes.

"For future reference, running off with another guy is not a crime." He headed off, annoyed, as Riley walked slowly towards her and Spike.

"Buffy, what's going on?" Hadn't this asshole just kidnapped Buffy? He'd been even guessing that it might be the same guy that had first taken her, but here she was, holding the bleached wonder's hand.

"I felt dizzy in there, so Spike took me to get some air." They let go of each other's hand at the same time, as she walked to stand beside Riley.

"Well, I have a party to get back to. I'll leave her with you then, Captain Cardboard?" He chuckled to himself as he turned to leave, but the demon gave another growl. He stopped with surprise. Yes, he knew he had a thing for Buffy. He just didn't realize exactly how much of a thing. Because apparently, in the dark corners of his mind, he was beginning to think of her as his.

He turned. Buffy was standing there, lit by a streetlight, looking at him like he was bloody amazing. It was the look girls had on TV when their motorcross boyfriends had just won some big show or something. He didn't know what show, as he didn't watch much sports. But Buffy was looking at him like that, and he found himself crossing the distance between them to plant a chaste, but possessive kiss on her lips. She received him contentedly, kissing back for a second before Spike shot a glare at Riley.

This one belongs to me. But I will let you have her for now.

Riley took her hand and pulled her towards home as his head spun. He had no idea what to think, and Buffy wasn't making it any easier by pressing her fingertips to her lips as she began to speak.

"I'm thinking that if you take off your watch, we could say you lost it, and call her right when I get home. We shouldn't get in much trouble that way." He agreed without knowing what he was doing. They walked the rest of the way to her house in contemplative silence. He thought about what this meant for him and Buffy. Buffy thought about the next time she'd see Spike- their meetings were short, few, and far between…but always eventful. And the person quietly following them in the shadows thought about how screwed he was going to be. Enthralled by a human. It went against the laws of nature, of God. And yet, he found himself not regretting tonight's activities, nor its revelations.


	12. Chapter 12

**RavensWritingProphecies – I thought it worked. **

**Okay, so here's what was going on, with my not-posting and all. I thought I could be one of those writers who cleverly balanced multiple fics from multiple categories of multiple lengths. I was writing this at the same time as writing my 19-chapter Gilmore Girls fic, Hollywood Hearts. I would bounce back and forth, forget things that happened, have no desire to work on either, or have ideas that I couldn't remember which story they went with. I concluded that writing multiple stories at the same time was not for me. When I made this decision, I was on an HH kick, and stuck with that one for several months. It's finished now, and I can return to this little beauty that was pitifully abandoned for so long. And it's beautiful little fans, whom I selfishly deprived. I'm sorry guys…I hope you remember this story. It's back for the long haul – no more stories until this one is finished. Which could be kinda quickly….summer is here!**

Buffy was sitting in the library, yawning from behind the checkout desk, as Giles chatted with her mother on the phone.

"That sounds like fun, I think it's a wonderful idea. Yes. Yes, I'll ask her." He took the phone away from his mouth to ask Buffy "Do you and Riley want to come out with your mom and I tonight?" She nodded absently to get him to hurry the conversation up, but he went right back to chatting. She stood up and began walking around, bored, wishing Giles would hurry up and train her already. She had been taking self-defense classes in LA after her father was mugged, and had enjoyed it profusely. This Protector stuff was so similar, except there was a little fighting back thrown in the mix. Needless to say, Buffy would have loved these training sessions if they didn't take her away from lunchtime with her friends. The official story was that she was a library aid, but since she obviously wasn't aiding, and Giles wasn't letting her jab sticks at him, there was no reason for her to be there.

He was distracted, so she entered the barred room where he kept most of his Protector stuff. She'd been in here before, so didn't feel guilty about intruding in Giles's sacred space. A manila folder marked 'Priority' caught her eye from its place on top of several dusty old volumes of spells and whatnot, and she picked it up curiously.

Leering dangerously at her from the first page was Spike. She traced his features with her index finger, paying careful attention to the door. It wouldn't be good for Giles to come in and see her oogling his Most Wanted list. But she couldn't tear her eyes from the black-and-white candid photograph.

He was facing sideways, but had turned his head towards the camera. The edges were crumbling, and the picture itself was beginning to take a beige-ish tint. She had no idea how many years old it was, but guessed that it had been taken before Spike came to Sunnydale. He looked exactly the same, as she knew he would, but the look on his face unnerved her a little. He looked mean. She knew he was mean, but she didn't like to be reminded of it. He was nice to her. That was all that mattered.

She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking. She was such a hypocrite. Spike killed people regularly, for fun, but she was all ready to forgive because he was nice to her. Even to her own ears, it sounded horrible. But she wasn't sure how to deal with all that she knew Spike to be. Yes, he was a monster, but he behaved like a man where she was concerned (usually.) Where did one draw the line? What was she supposed to do when she liked Spike, missed Spike, wanted to get to know Spike better, but knew full well who he was?

Making sure Giles wasn't looking, she took the photo to the library copy machine, and made her own private Spike picture. It was hard to make out the details of the scenery he stood against, but his face was perfectly mirrored. She'd hide this in her diary so Giles would never see it lying around. And she'd think about the fact that the photographer was more than likely dead at his subject's hands long ago.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Hey you, it's me. Mom and Giles want to do some double-date thing tonight, so be here by seven. Unless you're busy or something. Either way, call me later. I love you. Bye." Riley replayed the voice mail message for the hundredth time as he sat in his car in the Summers' driveway. She sounded like normal Buffy, if only a bit more noncommittal. But she sounded noncommittal whenever she had something on her mind, possibly as infinite as a science quiz gone wrong, so he wouldn't normally be worried.

Only he had no clue where he and Buffy stood at the moment. There used to be a clear map in his head; first base, second base, third base, homerun, spend night, propose at opportune time, spend rest of life together. It was simple and closely followed, and Riley couldn't wait for the end of the road. They'd been somewhere between the 'homerun' rest stop and the 'spend night' rest stop, but then HE'D come along.

Exactly who HE was, Riley had no idea. Riley had taken Buffy to The Bronze a few nights ago, where she'd collapsed for no apparent reason. Before Riley, ever the good boyfriend, could pick her up and carry her to safety, HE showed on the scene, lifted Buffy like she was a delicate doll, but with apparent ease, and somehow slipped through the throngs of dancing people. Riley had lost Buffy and HIM outside, found a cop, related the story, and then discovered that Buffy was actually alright. In fact, she'd just been hanging with the stranger for a little while, getting some air, and had come back HOLDING HIS HAND.

Riley's buddy Forrest had winced and clapped his friend on the back when told of this.

"Women. Take your heart, take your money, leave you with nothing. No wonder there are so many songs about them. Like that one about the girl who took the singer's heart, then ran around...with every single, man in town." Forrest had begun to hum, so Riley forcefully tried to steer him back on track.

"No, you don't get it. He wasn't just another guy, there was something weird about him."

"What was weird?"

"Well, he was older, for one."

"How older?"

"Thirties, easy. Maybe older. Too old for Buffy. And he was one of those punk dudes, with the black and the chains and the eye makeup. Buffy has never, ever expressed anything but pity for those kinds of guys."

"Times change, man. Break up before the shit hits the fan, that way you can still be friends, and leave open the door for rebounding when she realizes what a loser this old punk guy is."

"I can't break up with her!" he'd said, aghast.

"Why not?"

"Because I love her, and our relationship doesn't feel over." Forrest shook his head.

"Never does, brother. Never does." By now, Riley was starting to get frustrated. He wasn't trying to whine to his friend about his cheating girlfriend and get tips for how to handle her and the guy. He was trying to explain that there was something seriously wrong with the situation. When had Buffy met this guy? Why had Riley never seen him around, other than the time outside the Bronze? Why hadn't Buffy expressed any remorse for leaving Riley behind to go 'get some fresh air' with Mr. I-love-bleach-and-it-loves-me? Why hadn't she tried to stutteringly explain that kiss, like the time she'd fallen asleep on her couch with Xander, and woken up to his happy, sleepy nuzzling of her chest? Add up all that, and multiply it by the weird feeling he'd gotten from 'Spike', and, well, it was something he really wanted to ask Forrest about. But sadly, poor Forrest didn't get it.

"You have to be the responsible one, and break up with her before she can break up with you. I mean, if you don't, you'll just be the guy who got dumped because your ex found someone better. If you do, she'll know she drove you away, and be all remorseful and stuff."

"Forrest, you're really not helping."

"Well what are you asking me, man?" He'd given up.

"Never mind. I have to go to Buffy's now, we're going on a double date with her mom and Mr. Giles."

"Do it tonight, Riley. Let her down easy, but firmly."

"I'm not breaking up with Buffy. There has to be a reasonable explanation, that's why I came to you."

"You wanted me to come up with a reasonable explanation for why Buffy's running around with another guy? Try this: she's dating a college man for the first time ever, that would be you, and she finally realized that older and more independent guys are really fun and dangerous and all that shit. So, she found and even older and even more independent and even more fun and even more dangerous guy, and has been banging him on the side for at least a little while now. Dude, I don't want to know the answer to this, but just please have been using condoms with her."

"Don't say that about Buffy! She would never sleep with another guy!"

"You have it bad, Finn. She's gonna stomp all over your heart when the time comes." Coldly, Riley had stood up, grabbed his coat, and left.

He was here now, and from the swaying of the blinds in Buffy's upstairs window, she'd just seen his car in the driveway. Sure enough, she waltzed out the door a few seconds later.

"Hi there!" she greeted perkily as he stepped out of the car and allowed her to give him a peck on the lips. "We're almost ready to go. How do you feel about El Tap?"

"Sounds good. What are we doing after dinner?" She shrugged.

"Mom and Giles want to see a movie, but I draw the double-date line at dark theatres. We could get ice cream or something."

"And talk?" She smiled oddly at him.

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. I just kinda wondered if there was anything you wanted to say to me."

"Uh, I passed my vocab test?" She looked so completely clueless that he just shook his head.

"That's great news, Buffy."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Don't stay out too late, you two," Buffy playfully warned her mother and Giles. Rolling her eyes, Joyce Summers took her boyfriend by the hand, and led him towards the cineplex.

"Same goes for you. Home by ten thirty."

"Eleven."

"Ten forty-five." Buffy almost jumped for joy, not having expected her bargaining to work. Giles sure did make her mom happy.

"Gotcha. Have fun, but not too much fun." She let Riley lead her down the street to her favorite ice cream shop, buy her a heaping cone of bubblegum ice cream, and sit them down on one of the benches in the area.

"Thanks, this is sooooo yummy." He tried to return her smile, but his mouth had was frozen, and not from the temperature of their desert. Ever since he'd picked her up, the first time they'd seen each other since the Bronze incident, his stomach had felt like it was full of cement. Despite her earlier obliviousness, he was positive that she was planning on telling him something tonight. Maybe not breaking up with him, as Forrest was so adamant, but he felt strangely expectant.

"So, want to talk?" he asked as soon as she'd finished. She frowned; a bad sign.

"First time it was sweet, second time its a little bizarro. I get the feeling there's something you want to tell me." His temper surged at that. She had so many things to explain, and she acted like there was anything on his chest she didn't know about. Well, other than this huge Spike! weight.

"I'm just curious," he started out slowly. It wouldn't do any good to be rash, and to start accusing her. "The other night, where did you and Spike go?"

"A house somewhere." His stomach became heavier; it was vague, but honest sounding, and he was pretty sure it was a bad sign.

"What did you two do there?" He tried to keep things casual, but found that his voice was at least an octave higher that it should have been in asking that question.

But for the first time, she looked guilty. Not after leaving him alone to take a breather, not after he watched Spike kiss her and give Riley a possessive glare that suggested if Spike were a lion, he'd have peed on her, not after he'd shown up at her house in a funk. But now, she looked guilty. Either something really bad had happened, or the shame of everything was finally hitting her.

In reality, it was because Riley had attempted to do what Spike had done to her in the house. It always left a very messy hickey for her to carefully hide from Joyce's eyes, but Spike had done the same thing, just in a more accurate and pleasurable way. Everything else that had happened with Spike, the playful, but laced with supernatural, banter, the extremely powerful and protective kiss he'd given her, and holding her hand securely as they walked near Vampire turf...none of it was anything Riley could attempt, for the simple reason that he was human. All those things were so very Vampish of Spike that she had never thought of it as cheating before, because cheating involved two PEOPLE. People, as in humans.

But now that Riley brought it up, there were some humanish, cheatish things going on at the house. And she was blushing, a clear giveaway, not because she regretted doing those things, but because of the revelation that she was a horrible girlfriend.

"Riley, you know I love you, right?" He nodded, looking sad and angry at the same time. She suspected he knew what she was going to say next, though she was a little fuzzy herself. Pretty much flying by the seat of her pants, only she was wearing a skirt.

"I know."

"Good. Well, you were the first boy I ever loved. You're very special to me, and you will always be very special to me. But there's something going on with Spike that just feels...powerful. Passionate. Destined." His face slipped even further as an outlandish sort of grin covered her face. She'd plainly never described their own relationship this way, nor did she seem to realize that it wasn't a good way to describe any other relationship to her boyfriend.

"Wow, did I just say destined?" She giggled, wondering if it was true. Were there forces beyond this world, pushing good and evil together? Forbidden love, ever so sweet? Not that it was love yet, but as she thought this last musing, she realized what she wanted to do. It was just like those very beyond forces had opened the gates of heaven, and poured out realization upon her.

"It's not fair to string you along, which is what I'd be doing if I investigated what's happening between me and Spike, like I want to. So I think we should go back to just being friends." Yes, that was the right decision. She wouldn't have any guilt over what might or might not eventually happen with Spike. And she felt she'd been relatively tactful about the whole thing.

"Why?" he burst out suddenly, destroying the calm quiet which had descended on them with her last words.

"I thought I explained it."

"Why? What did I do? What can he do that I can't?"

"Well, a lot of stuff. But that's not the reason why."

"Oh really? Tell me some of this stuff that he can do." She frowned. Biting sprung to mind as something Spike could do that Riley couldn't, but she didn't think it prudent to voice. Instead, she stood up.

"This has nothing to do with you, and nothing to do with anything that's happened with him. I just feel that I'm in a new phase of my life now, and not only do I want to enter it with open options, I don't think you fit very well into it." Not as tactful as before, but the words 'fighting Vampires, or at least training to' had never directly come up, so she congratulated herself for getting all the points across.

Riley was sputtering. He was beginning to regret this talk, perhaps it would have been better if he'd kept quiet, and just accepted the fact that she was seeing another guy on the side. Forrest would give him hell for being such a pansy, but all the Spike stuff would blow over soon, and they'd be back to where they were before. Only now, it seemed he'd fatally damaged everything.

"I think it'd be really rude to ask you for a ride home after that, so I'll walk. Goodnight, Riley Finn. You are incredibly special, and once what I just did hits me, I'm sure I'll be crying." She kissed him on the cheek, then turned and headed for her neighborhood. Riley sat there, stunned, for a good half an hour before dazedly heading back to his dorm, where an anxious Forrest would hear all about Buffy's words. And since Forrest was such a great friend, he'd refrain from saying 'I told you so.'

For a few days, at least.


	13. Chapter 13

Buffy sighed as she handed Willow yet another tissue. Sad break-up movies like these always made her friend weepy, so she kept a supply on hand. And since Willow was apparently convinced that Buffy was devastated, she'd demanded that they have an all-afternoon sad movie marathon. Thus, tissues.

"I'm fine, Will. The night we broke up, I went though his stuff, and got sniffly. I took it all to his dorm the next day, where Forrest belittled me until I felt bad enough to cry for real when I got home, and when Riley dropped my stuff off the next day, the look on his face made me feel sick." The movies were over, and they were rewinding all the black tapes. "But now, I'm fine."

"I still don't get why you broke up with him- you two were so happy together." Buffy shrugged.

"Riley was a great boyfriend. I loved him. But I felt like it was time." Willow rushed towards her friend and pulled her into a restrictive embrace.

"Let it all out, sweetie."

"Willow, I have nothing to let out. It's been let out, like I just told you."

"But where's the regret? The self-depreciation? The anger? The sadness?"

"There never was any, Will."

"There has to have been! I've seen all the movies, it's always there!"

"Willow, at this point, I think you're more upset than me. Let's get you something to eat." Willow followed her friend into the kitchen, where she leaned against the wall as Buffy took three containers of strawberry yogurt out of the fridge. Dumping all three into a bowl, she removed a bag of fresh strawberries from the fruit drawer, and began to wash them. When she was finished, she cut them up, dropped them in too, and took the bowl, two spoons, and Willow into the dining room.

"This is really good Buffy. Maybe you should be a chef."

"Yes, I can be the next Rachel Ray, only I'll use yogurt in all my recipes."

"Well, if not a chef, then the lady who gives out free samples at the grocery store," Willow said, teasing. Buffy was glad to see that she'd gotten her friend out of her funk, but her mind started whirring with Willow's pseudo career talk.

She had no idea what she wanted to be when she grew up. And while her counselor said this was normal for a senior, and that she should wait until she'd shopped around college classes before even trying to set her mind in stone, this had always worried her.

That was, it had until yesterday afternoon. Giles had received a call from London, apparently from the Protector's Council. She'd heard him speak of the Council before, and believe he had a grudging respect coupled with a personal hatred for them. He wouldn't go near them, but accepted what they had to tell him with grace. While he'd been on the phone, he'd given her the universal 'shhh!' signal, afterwards telling her it was due to the fact that, if they knew she was being trained, they'd try to officially recruit her. He maintained that she wasn't a Protector, just a girl learning to protect herself.

Well, five minutes later, she'd kicked his feet out from under him, trapped him against the floor with a chair, and 'staked' him. Previous to the scuffle, she'd put a question to him; why would the Council care about some high school girl? Yea, she was being trained, but so could anyone. There were much better recruits out there, all they needed was the time Buffy had had to prepare. Then she'd scored her point, and he whispered from the floor 'because it is no common talent.'

For once, she had a talent. She liked the pretend fights with Giles, and could bring herself to imagine prowling the streets, looking for unwitting Vampires. She'd stake them, extinguishing the evil from their bodies, and making the world safe for other kids like her. It was an honorable purpose, one that Buffy would have already told Giles to put her down for if not for one little detail.

Spike. She hadn't seen him since her breakup with Riley, and didn't think that joining the people whose main goal in life was to end his would further their relationship at all. It would probably set it back at least a little.

"Buffy?" Willow was saying. The blonde shook her head to clear it, and then tried to hone in on what Willow was saying.

"I'm in here, don't worry."

"Good, because it didn't look that way. I was just talking about this spell I'm itching to try out. The only problem is, it has to be done in a graveyard at midnight, and I'm afraid. You hear all those spooky stories about people who go out alone at night..."

"What's the spell for?" Buffy asked, interested. If she indeed became a Protector, she'd be working with magic as well. Willow looked surprised that she'd asked, though, because Buffy had never shown much willingness to believe in 'Willow's witchy hobby.' Little did she know how much had changed in Buffy's formerly normal life since the last time they'd discussed the topic.

"Well, you know how a lot of the graves in the Sunnydale cemeteries get dug up? Jesse from our history class's funeral was today, and I found a simple spell that protects a resting place against pranksters."

"Well, I'll go with you." Willow blinked. "Look, I know you're going to say I'm no match for the evil darkness that creates the material for those spooky stories...but remember, I got kidnapped. I fought my kidnappers, and I'm brave." It was as close to the complete truth as she could tell Willow. Keeping secrets wasn't fun, but even witchy Willow wouldn't believe the truth.

"Well, I guess...but only if we ask Xander too. With three of us, armed with a cell phone and something heavy, no one will mess with us." She was wrong, but Buffy would be brining a stake along as well. So if someone did mess with them, Buffy would take care of the problem.

As the hours passed, and Buffy got ready to go to the graveyard, she caught a look at her nervous face in the mirror. She'd never faced a Vamp before...well, she had, but not with the intention of kicking it's ass instead of running like the wind. She was sure she could handle a so-called 'fledgling', the only kind she could think would be lurking in a graveyard, so she felt fairly confident as she slipped a stake into her sleeve, like Giles had done during her ransom meeting. She considered telling Giles, but he'd forbid it. It would be a very Protectorish thing of her to do, and he was greatly against her becoming one. It was both what had happened to Kendra, and his fatherly spot for her, but she would be the one to make the final call regarding what she did with her life. In the mean time, it was time to roll.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Xander and Buffy, each holding a lit candle, watched in fascination as Willow sprinkled a pale green powder over the grave marker.

"Ground, you have your flesh. Flesh, you have your rest. Let none that seek revenge or mirth intrude upon this holy earth where lie the bones of our dear friend. Rest in peace, departed. They shan't undo what is started. Your remains are free to remain unto the end." She stepped back after placing what looked to Buffy like a hunk of onion on the stone. "There. It's done."

"That was really beautiful, Will," Xander commented. Though he had seen the spell as more of a ceremonial thing, while Buffy and Willow had recognized it for what it truly was, he was greatly impressed.

"Where did you learn that?" Buffy asked, as Willow gathered up the ingredients she'd used.

"Mr. Giles recommended this novice magic shop to me, and I found a book with all sorts of little remedies and cures- I originally bought it because I had a cold, and there was a potion to relieve oneself of cold-like symptoms. This was the last one in the book. If all else fails, protect the grave from robbers."

"Sounds depressing."

"Depressing, but helpful. All the spells had little comments written about them, getting into the minute details of the spell and the effects. This one was a little creepy though; it said that the remains are FREE to remain, but if they wish not to, they are unrestricted."

"Zombies?" Xander asked with his eyes wide. Buffy's eyes widened, but for a different means. She'd just realized a question she should have asked Willow hours ago.

"I don't think Zombies, Xander."

"Willow? How did Jesse die?" Buffy asked bluntly.

"Some animal attacked him, or so I heard." Her heart pounded.

There was no way Jesse would feel like remaining.

She walked along slowly, vowing to call Giles right when she got home. But when she heard noises behind her, she realized there wasn't enough time.

'He's a fledgling. Piece of cake. Once he gets past the heart attack, Giles will be proud.' She had her stake with her, brought along of course in case of nocturnal surprises. She was in the mindset to go turn that sucker into dust. The only thing left to do was give Willow and Xander the slip.

"I see someone, run!" It was dumb, but both her friends had been so jittery since they'd left Xander's house that they obeyed her command without thinking. Waiting until they were several yards ahead of her, she turn and ran the other way.

Jesse must have been waking up as they arrived, and beginning his climb as Willow did the spell. Squatting down on the ground beside the green powder, she watched the dirt move, and slowly a head poked out.

She blinked. It was like watching someone be born, only the opposite. She was seeing a Vamp emerge from his grave for the first time, and something thrilling within her told her that it wouldn't be the last. She wondered if Spike had looked like that when he emerged many years ago; disoriented and excited.

Jesse saw her, and growled. His game face was on, but it wasn't as scary as it normally was. Because this time, she had the power.

"Hey Jesse. Did you study for the History test?"

"Buffy Summers...what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I wanted to copy your notes; I think I missed the day when he talked about the Homestead Act, and I heard there's an essay question on it." Cheek helped ease her nervousness.

"Are you insane? I'm dead, in case you haven't noticed. And you're sitting there, next to my fucking grave, talking about History."

"Well, Jesse, that's because you're about to become history." He laughed at her.

"Wait for me to get out of this hole, and I'll show you how wrong you are."

"Can't wait." She heard voices in the distance, but ignored them. She was focused on her prey. A few minutes later, he had enough room to use his arms and pull out, and they stood up simultaneously. She let the stake slip from her sleeve, into her waiting palm, and he gulped.

"Uh, I'm new at this, but I'm guessing that's bad."

"Good thought. Maybe even worth extra credit." She swung at him, missing just by inches as he sidestepped her, and he managed to get a kick in to her legs.

They circled each other, swinging every now and then. He looked visibly wary of her, but she tried to keep a grin on her face. Let him think she was more experienced at this than she really was.

He connected with her cheek, more of a slap than a punch, and her head whipped sideways. Angry, she stomped on his foot, sending him jumping backwards with a muffled yelp.

"Buffy!" She heard her name screamed, and recognized the close-range voice as Xander's.

"Oh my God, it's Jesse!" Willow screamed. Buffy suddenly placed their voices from earlier, calling her name through the cemetery. Obviously, she wasn't as slippy as she thought.

But there was no time to hide what she was about to do, because Jesse's fangs were very prominent in the moonlight. Landing a kick to his groin, he groaned as he stumbled backwards, and she wasted no time in plunging the stake into his heart.

"Time's up. Pencils down," she quipped, as he burst into dust. Willow screamed, Xander toppled over, and she stood there, panting. It hadn't been a fight even near the difficulty of some of her trials with Giles, but he was a real Vampire. And he was dust. Her first staking.

"Buffy, are you alright?" Willow called, hesitant to approach. Brushing dust off her hands, Buffy headed for her friend, who looked terrified.

"Run across 'Vampire' in your magic books, Will?"

"Yes."

"Still thought they didn't exist?"

"Yes."

"Think so now?"

"I don't know." She stared. "Buffy...how did you know how to kill it?" Xander groaned a few feet away, and both girls quickly made their way towards him.

"Whuz goin' on?" He saw Buffy standing in front of him, clothes dusty and stake in hand, and gasped.

"I'll explain tomorrow guys. Right now, let's get both of you home- you look tired." She, however, felt strangely exhilarated. Both complied wordlessly, looking scared of her. "Guys, its just Buffy. Only with a new talent." They walked on, Willow and Xander practically tiptoeing, Buffy strolling. The only thing that could have made this night better was...

He stood on top of a mausoleum, looking straight at her. From that height, and with Vampire eyesight, he would have seen her fight Jesse if he'd been standing there long enough. And from the look he was giving her, he'd been standing there long enough.

"Guys, I'll still talk to you tomorrow, but I'm gonna cut loose now." Bidding her stunned friends goodbye, she walked to the mausoleum, where he looked down at her. She knew they stared for a little bit, but once she knew they were gone, she called up, "Either give me a boost, or get down here." He jumped, wordlessly, silently. They stood just a foot from each other, looking into each other's eyes, worlds of silence passing between them. Her eyes spoke of Prince Riley's departure, and her newfound strengths. His spoke of disbelief, and he soon said the first verbal words of their conversation.

"I knew you were one we'd have to worry about someday, if we didn't nip you in the bud."

"Was he your Childe?" She'd been doing some research on Vampires, per Giles' request, and knew terms like Childe very well now.

"Minion, but I came to see what was takin' him so long. Had a job for him."

"Sorry. But I'm a double agent, after all." He cracked a smile, warming her heart. She had been afraid he was mad at her.

"That was the worst technique I've ever seen," he said after a few minutes. "Mind you, don't go thinkin' you're high and mighty. You'll be a snack for sure."

"I'll practice," she said, moving closer to him. Speaking of snacks, she was a little hungry.

And there they stood, in front of a mausoleum in a deserted graveyard, under the light of an almost full moon, both wearing black. The Vampire Lord and the Protector-in-training. If indeed these two were fated, fate was cruel.

Standing there, Buffy felt so different from the girl she'd been the first time she'd seen Spike as he entered the library...the first time she'd seen a game face...the first time Giles had told her about the world existing within and beyond their own. She was a new Buffy, the Buffy who staked Vampires and kissed Vampires and did both because SHE wanted to. Not her mom, not her friends, not her guidance counselor, but her.

Her lips caught his first, but he was the one to push her against the stone wall. Higher and higher they soared, as he took her to places she'd never been before, much less while out in the open as they were. She didn't care that the dead could hear her screaming as Spike ran his fingers through her hair (he'd discovered early on that she liked this; it had taken Riley months) as brought her to a deeper ecstasy that she'd thought was humanly possible. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe such a thing was only possible with Vampires. But whatever the case, she'd found two new loves that night; killing Vampires, and being with the exception.


	14. Chapter 14

She called Giles first thing the next morning. He was up, of course, and listened to her describe the scene from the graveyard, minus the orgasmic ending.

"Buffy, that was a very stupid thing to do."

"You yourself said I could take a fledgling. And it's not like I went looking for one, he fell into my lap pretty much."

"I'm still disappointed. You should have called me."

"There was no time. He was above ground by the time I got to the grave." Giles sighed.

"Please, just don't do it again. I have enough to worry about trying to train you, much less keep you alive while you patrol." He snorted at the thought of breezy Buffy patrolling the way he'd routinely done in his younger Protector years (it hadn't been much fun. Find, stake, fill out Council paperwork), and Buffy decided to keep mum about her career choice, for a little while at least.

"So you say Willow and Xander saw you?"

"Yea. I was hoping you'd help me figure out what to say to them." Giles sighed again.

"I will write the three of you hall passes to come see me today, and I'll help you explain there."

"Thanks Giles, you're the best!" He smiled despite himself as he hung up. Even when he was mad at her, Buffy could still cheer him up.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Spike hummed a Nirvana song to himself as he flipped through the channels, looking for something good. There was a blonde actress on that show, and she reminded him of Buffy. He changed it to the Cartoon Network. Billy and Mandy was on, and Mandy was blonde like Buffy. He switched it to Animal Planet, where they were showing a dog show. That dog had shiny blonde hair, just like Buffy.

It was obvious he had Buffy on the brain, and probably wouldn't get over it anytime soon. So he muted the television, and folded his arms behind his head to think.

She was threat. If allowed to train with the Protector, unchecked, she'd soon become yet another thorn in his side. She'd learn the ancient pesky art of Protecting, slay his minions, and foil his evil plans. She had to be stopped before it was too late.

Like he was actually going to kill her. So what if she had to potential to undo his evil operation, he couldn't get enough of her. She apparently felt the same way- Riley's smell was fainter than usual, and this was the first time she'd initiated anything. She may have been inexperienced, but Spike's only goal at that point was to remedy that. And who really cared if she was a white hat? He'd seen her in action, and though he still winced when he remembered the foot stomp, she was an animal. Giles had chosen his pupil well; Buffy had excellent reflexes, she was resourceful, and she was determined. Spike had originally written her off for a fighter, but the previous night she'd proved him wrong. Which was why he had seriously considered turning her then and there last night, while inside her, with a simple bite to her exposed neck. He hadn't though, because the sound and feel of her heartbeat against his extraordinary senses had been amazing. Never before had Spike been with a willing human. His partners tended to normally be dead, or occasionally reeking of fear and pain that coated all other effects. Never the telltale heart pounding its climax in his ear...in his veins...in his own unbeating heart... Spike had developed a kink for heartbeats, it seemed.

And the Vampire who had fallen for a human, much less a dangerous human, and discovered that he in fact liked her better alive than dead, was about to fall even further in the eyes of Hell. Because he had a date, for lack of better term, tonight.

He un-muted the TV, and watched the dog show until sunset.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Mirror mirror, on the wall," Buffy asked with a twirl and a pout, "who's the fairest of them all?"

"Why, it's you, Buffy Summers!" she answered herself in a high, squeaky voice. Then she decided that if her mirror could talk, it'd probably sound cooler than that. "You are, Buffy Anne," she said, deeper and throatier this time. That was better. She looked down at her outfit: a black halter top borrowed from her Mom, who'd been acquiring hotter close since beginning to court Giles, and black pants, a hand-me-down from Xander of all people. He'd tried the pleather-y look in previous grades, and had been mercilessly mocked for it. When he'd officially outgrown them, he passed the tight pants along to Buffy. To that day, he still had the habit of running his fingers along the pants and sighing whenever Buffy wore them. He loved those pants. But Buffy was loving them more at the moment, because they showed off her legs without placing too much attention on her shapeless butt.

She picked up an eye pencil from her dresser, and went over her makeup one more time. It had started quite faint, and grown darker and darker over the past thirty minutes. She wasn't sure if Spike like natural looking girls, being born in a time where mascara didn't exist, or putschy looking girls, as would be complimented by his own eye makeup and interesting hair color. Of their own accord, her nervous hands had chosen to go thick and dark.

She was meeting Spike in fifteen minutes, as had been agreed before the left the cemetery the night before, her declining his invitation to walk her home. She'd have liked his company, but didn't want either of them falling into the trap of thinking she was defenseless. If being friends, possibly with benefits, with Spike was going to work, she'd have to continuously strive to prove herself. She didn't want to be automatically labeled the weak one in the relationship, though she knew she technically was.

They were going over a few towns to a club, because according to Spike, despite Sunnydale being a Hellmouth, "There's no decent parties." They were meeting at the park where she'd given him a ride not so long ago. Adding another smudge of lipstick to her already colorful lips, she bounced down the stairs.

"I'm out, Mom! I have my cell phone!"

"Where are you going?" Joyce called from the kitchen.

"Bronze. I'll be back by eleven."

"Ten-thirty."

"Mom, loosen up a little. You probably won't be back by ten-thirty."

"Well, now that you're not with Riley anymore, I don't know who you're flirting with at that club. I want you home before the wierdos come out."

"It's been a week, Mom! I'm not on the prowl yet!" Technically, that was true. Though Spike was very prowl-y, with his cat-like reflexes and such.

"Ten-forty," Joyce said after a minute of silence. Buffy rolled her eyes, giving up the fight.

"Have fun with Giles. And if he asks how I am after the Riley thing AGAIN, tell him I am on the prowl." Not knowing much about girls, Giles had been cutting her all kinds of slack the past few days, believing her to be mopey. Not really true, as she'd had a damn good reason for breaking up with him. And she'd be late in meeting that reason if she didn't hurry up.

She'd gone with wedge heels tonight, black of course, and the clicked along as she made her way to the rendezvous point. As she walked, she thought back to the events of the day. She'd pretty much been daydreaming about her cemetery sexcapade, but Giles had called her, Willow, and Xander to the library as promised. He'd sat the two friends down, while Buffy paced behind him for lack of anything else to do. Willow had stayed up most of the previous night doing research in her junior magic books about Vampires, so she was very receptive. Xander had watched a few black-and-white Vampire films, and was even more terrified than he'd been the night before.

"No Xander, the only Vampire who is capable of that is Dracula himself, and that's because of a Devil's Deal he made with a renegade vengeance demon in the 13th century. Real Vampires are less show, more blunt strength."

"If that's true, why hasn't anyone I know gotten turned into a Vampire?"

"I'm willing to bet dozens of people you know have been sired, starting with your friend from the other night."

"Jesse was not a Vampire!"

"Oh, excuse me, he was just a high school boy who died from a mysterious neck injury, then rose from the dead a few days later to be met with the stake of a Protector, people sworn to demolish his kind, and perished into dust." Buffy smiled and mouthed the word 'Protector,' but Giles seemed to realize what he'd said, and gave her a look that clearly meant 'don't get any ideas.'

"I don't know why everyone thought he was dead, but he couldn't have been."

"So what happened to him, in your eyes?"

"Like that story we had to read the other day, the one by Edgar Allen Poe,"

"The Fall of the House of Usher," Willow supplied from beside him.

"Yea, that one. Where they thought the chick was dead, and they put her in the coffin, but she was actually just sick, and she came and killed the dude that put her in there. Jesse wasn't dead, and he was angry and disoriented when he got out, so he attacked Buffy, and then..." Xander trailed off. Giles prompted him to go on. "I guess Buffy was the one that killed him." In horror, Buffy's hand flew to her mouth before.

"NO," Giles answered, trying to remain calm. "Buffy did not kill him. He was already dead. You have known Buffy for a long time, and you know she is not a murderer."

"Well, I also didn't know she a Fearless Vampire Killer."

"Xander, if Buffy had truly killed Jesse, would he have burst into ashes?" Xander thought about that for a minute, still very white.

"I'm guessing not."

"Jesse was turned into a Vampire, and Buffy slayed him before he could do the same to others. As you were in the graveyard that particular night, you would have been one of his first victims."

"Jesse wouldn't do that. We weren't best friends, but we were buds."

"But Jesse was dead. That was a demon in Jesse's body and mind."

"It doesn't make sense."

"Well I'm sorry, Xander, but I can't explain it further. I don't think you're willing to understand. Willow, did you have any questions?"

"How did Buffy get mixed up in this? She's just a girl. Is it because you're dating her mom? Does Joyce know?"

"No, Joyce does not know, and she will not know. Am I clear?" He glared at the two sitting in front of him until they nodded. "Buffy stumbled upon one of my targets, who took her hostage for a few days." Willow and Xander gasped, remembering the kidnapping. "I felt it best, after this incident, to prepare her for possible similar occurrences in the future." Willow nodded, and Giles moved toward his desk to pick up their passes, and write more on them. "Even though things still probably seem quite confusing to you, please don't worry about it. This doesn't concern you, and there is nothing you can do to help me or Buffy. Just forget about things, and most certainly don't tell anyone. That would make our job much harder." Once again, he was speaking like she was one of the Protectors. This time he didn't notice, and didn't give her any looks.

She fell out of her memory as she reached the park, the tingling hairs on the back of her neck clueing her in that he was here already. Pretending she didn't notice, she made her way up one of the ladders, and slid her legs into the opening for the orange slide. She pushed off, and sailed down several feet until she hit something hard.

"That's my head, baby." She giggled, then spread her legs so she slid down further, and ended up with Spike's head in her lap.

"Is this better?"

"You tease, bint." He placed a little kiss on the inside of her thigh, wincing at the sappiness. It just wasn't something he could help.

"How was your day?"

"Slept most of it, then did some important decision making. Staked a minion who wouldn't get in line. Actually used the stake I bummed off you for the job; nice piece of work's wot it was."

"You didn't BUM it from me, Spike, your minions STOLE it from me. And don't use Mr. Pointy for evil, he's got quite a history."

"Mr. Pointy's for killin' Vamps, right? 'Swhat I did with 'em." He chuckled, but saw the look in her eyes. "Why's the piece of wood so bloody important?"

"He belonged to Giles' pupil who died. Then he belonged to me, and I lost him after only having him a few hours." She hung her head.

"Kendra?" Spike asked, surprising her.

"How'd you know?"

"Protectors know things on us, we know things on them. I don't twiddle my thumbs waiting for Rupes to attack us; he's a major pain in my ass that I have to deal with. Vamps aren't nonchalant about Protectors, 'specially not the good kind like your boy there."

"So it's kind of like grudging respect?" she asked.

"Kind of, only more like hateful respect." He snuggled his head between her thighs, quite enjoying the compromising position she'd literally slid into. "How much does it bother you that you lost the hunk 'o wood?"

"Immensely. I feel like I let him down, and took something valuable away from him." They were silent for a few more minutes before Spike sighed. He reached into his duster, and took out a curved stick of wood.

"I'm not givin' it back, if that's what you're thinkin'." He snapped it in half, careful to hold it away from his chest, and flung it down the slide. "But if you don't want it in my bloodstained hands, I'll respect that."

"Thanks. I think."

"Get down here, you're making my mind go places, pet." She unhooked her legs, and slid down again so this time she was flush against him. They both slid down a few inches with her added weight, but he wrapped his arms around her waist, and began to smooch her neck. She started to giggle, but it turned into a gasping sound when she felt his fangs tickle her.

"Eh-eh, no biting!" She felt his tongue replace the sharp teeth. "Much better. Much much much better."

They lay tangled in the tube for the next few hours. She had no idea how they'd managed it, but Spike's duster was at the bottom of the slide, along with her shoes. They'd continued slipping lower and lower until they finally joined the objects, and continued to explore each other with their hands and mouths. When she felt his fingers intrude her womanhood (far more than Riley had even dared to do; he was a penis-in-vagina guy, period) she actually screamed, hoping the families living in the houses around them didn't hear and come to investigate. If they did, Spike would probably kill them. That knowledge should have upset her, but she was too far gone to particularly care whether Spike did any killing tonight or not.

There wasn't an inch of either of their bodies the other's roaming fingers didn't touch upon. As her hand twisted up his black shirt to tweak his nipples, he pulled his mouth away from hers with a little groan.

"You're so pretty," he commented with a grin, as her fingertips worked faster and harder around the raised buds.

"So are you," she teased back. He knew he should be objecting to this; when was the last time he let a little girl tell him he was PRETTY, and live? He couldn't recall ever doing that. Yet Buffy did it, and all he wanted was to respond by telling her that she was ridiculously beautiful, and he could never hope to match that. His ego barely reigned that statement in, but it would teeter on the tip of his tongue for the rest of the night.

When ten-thirty was approaching, he insisted that he be allowed to walk her home, and she agreed without thinking. Dominant, he draped his arm around her shoulders, just so that if anyone drove by with a certain glint in their eyes for Buffy, they'd know just how much they couldn't have her.

"We never made it to that club," she said as her house came into view.

"To tell truth, I forgot about it." She grinned.

"Me too." They reached her front porch, Spike wondering what the next move would be. He watched Friends, Dawson's Creek, and other such shows with a hidden passion; but he'd never actually dropped a girl off, and he didn't know where fiction ended and reality began. He WAS supposed to kiss her, right? Screw it; he was a Vampire Master, and if he wanted to kiss his girl, he'd fucking well do it.

'My girl,' the thought echoed in his mind as he bent down to give her a far more chaste kiss than the kind they'd been exchanging all night. But in that simple, pure kiss was a kind of adoration he'd never experienced before, not even with Drusilla. Feeling suffocated, though the need to breathe had been extinguished long ago, Spike kissed her again and again, feeling her smile underneath his attentions.

"...lously beautiful," he mumbled as he finally pulled back. She didn't catch the whole thing, but heard more than he'd wanted her to. Cursing himself for turning into a pussy, he didn't notice himself take her hand, plant a tiny kiss on the knuckles, and say "Goodnight, fair maiden." She glowed, more so than she ever had with Riley or a previous boyfriend. But he kicked himself for the wussiness, and decided it was time to say something sexy and charge-taking, before he threw out anymore doomed lines.

"Midnight. I'll be the one knocking at your window." Well, so much for no more lines. "I mean, I'm taking you out of your window whether you agree to it or not." Good; throw some of the old, pre-Buffy Spike in there. She smiled.

"Don't you need an invitation to get in?"

"I'll threaten it out of you." Stay...evil...

"Oooh, wook at de mean, scawy Vampire!" She winked as she went through her front door.

Spike journeyed home, feeling deflated and elated at the same time. She collapsed against her door, panting from the intensity of the night. Suffice to say, this had never happened before. She was suddenly falling for a Vampire, throwing away all her morals to feel things with him, and planning to invite him in tonight. Why? Why?

Because she wouldn't have it any other way.


	15. Chapter 15

At 11:59, only a few minutes after Buffy was positive her mom had gone to bed, the expected knock came at her window. Shyly, she made her way out of bed, where she'd been laying fully-dressed for over an hour, and to the window. Sliding it open as quietly as she could, she saw him crouched outside on the tree that ran parallel to their roofline.

"Ever been on a motorcycle, pet?"

"No," she said, reaching through the invisible barrier between them to mess with a curl she'd dislocated while running her fingers through his gelled hair a few hours ago.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Get out here; I'm still taking you out for fun. Our plans just got moved back, s'all."

"Let me grab my coat." Moving away from the window and towards her closet, she saw his head rotating as he took in her bedroom with a predator's glance.

"So this is where you sleep. Where you have all sortsa nasty dreams about yours truly." He licked his lips cockily.

"I wouldn't call them nasty," she said with what she hoped was a flirtatious smile. In reality, the intensity in his eyes was somewhat startling. He looked around, as if trying to memorize the personality that came across in her personal décor. His eyes roamed her rumpled covers, the pictures of her, Xander, and Willow on her mirror, her stuffed animals distributed throughout her room on various pieces of furniture. Spike swallowed as he took in all that was Buffy. How had the idea of just perching at her window and watching her sleep never occurred to him? He knew where she lived; he'd followed her home from the cemetery the other night, just to make sure she got home without being jumped by one of his bloodsucking boys.

Buffy made her way back to the window, pulling a jean jacket over her shoulders. Suddenly, she saw beyond Spike's frame in the window, a car turning onto Revello. It kind of looked like...

"Get in here!" she said without thinking. He paused for the shortest second before minding her and tumbling into the room, through the barrier, and onto her floor. He stared straight at her, wondering what had prompted the speedy invitation, as she stood beside the window and peeked at her driveway sneakily. Yep. It was Giles.

"Guh-ross," she said with a face. So old Rupert was sneaking into her house after they thought she was asleep, eh? Apparently Joyce wasn't asleep after all. Indignation welled up in her at the grownups' elaborate steps to hide an important phase of their relationship from little Buffy...but then it passed, and she was thankful no one had out-and-out told her that Giles and her mom were sleeping together. That was just...weird.

"I don't think he saw you," she said with relief. Both were silent as Spike's sensitive ears picked up a middle-aged woman padding past Buffy's door to the landing. Rolling his eyes at human behavior, he returned to studying Buffy's room. It smelled like his sweet girl- perfume, shampoo, flowers. But other smells too. Night sweats. Tears. Stale blood. Self pleasure. He inhaled deeply.

She waited until she'd heard the adults pass her door- Giles' footsteps were heavier, and more detectable. When she was sure they were in Joyce's room, she turned back to Spike. He had risen from his position on the floor, and was ruffling through her underwear drawer.

"Hey, stop that!" He pulled out a light blue thong with a grin, and dangled it in front of her face as she approached, mindful to be quiet.

"Does mum know about these, doll?"

"They're so panty lines don't show," she said, blushing. He cackled, and she moved to shush him, placing her hand over his grinning mouth. His tongue immediately breached his lips, lapping at her palm. The contact jolted her and reminded her for the first time that she'd just given a Vampire an invitation into her house. This should have bothered her. But as Spike bent to her will, placed the thong back in her drawer, and closed it softly, she decided that this was not a man to abuse that privilege. She hoped.

"Shall we blow this Popsicle stand?" Spike asked as soon as her hand had been removed from its bathing position. She nodded, and accepted his hand as he helped her out the window, down the tree, and onto his Harley parked at her curb. She really hoped Giles had been too excited to notice that little blot on the landscape.

They roared off into the night, disregarding helmets or safety gear of any kind. Despite her jacket, she was still cold, and Spike eventually passed his duster back to her. She liked the way it billowed behind her as they zoomed several miles above the speed limit towards Spike's party destination, a small, run-down town called Loewen. She looped her arms around his waist the whole way, enjoying the feel of the air rushing past her, chilling her; scaring her.

"Can't you go any slower?"

"You slow down, you die."

"YOU can't die; you're immortal, unless someone jabs you with a splinter."

"Someone clearly did not experience the fifties first hand. Beatific, sweets." And this launched them into a shouted conversation over the wind about who Spike had bumped elbows with over his long and highlighted life.

"Flower children were the best. Blood and acid, just one bite."

"Did you go to Woodstock?" He groaned and clutched at his head with both hands. She screamed, but he retook control over the steering of the bike.

"Was with Drusilla in Dresden at the time. Biggest regret I own, and there are many."

"What else do you regret?"

"Not bitin' that bitch Sadie Glutz. She repented, but she was a bloody queen in her dark days- you could smell death on her miles away. I let her slide for the moment in Haight-Ashbury, thinkin' I'd get her another time. Then BOOM! Jail! Sentence! Jesus!" They rolled up to a seedy-looking club, and Spike carelessly left the bike on the sidewalk.

"Is it wise to leave your baby out here? This doesn't look like the best part of town." He grinned.

"People know who owns baby." He took her by the hand and led her inside, past the bouncer at the door whose eyes widened as Spike glided past the line and entered, looking like paying was the farthest thing from his mind.

"Uh, Spike?"

"Once again, I've cultivated a reputation around here."

"Is this a Vampire club?"

"Clientele, for the most part. The staff's humans who have yet to piss us off. All of whom know the Big Bad on sight." She giggled at his label for himself, and he pulled her on to the dance floor. Immediately, differences between this place (Klub Kardon according to the dingy sign out front) and the Bronze became apparent. While the Bronze sold coffee and sodas to their teenage customers, this place reeked of strong alcohol, and perhaps was that blood? While the Bronze had a professional recessed-lighting thing going on, Klub Kardon was dim for lack of lights not strobe. And while the Bronze would have been cranking out Top 40 songs, this place was currently doing a tribute to the Offspring. "I'm not a trendy asshole..." Spike sang along with the music, pulling Buffy closer as some 'friends' of his across the bar looked appreciatively at her hips and neck. He suddenly questioned bringing her here. She was one of a small number of humans present, and the youngest of them by far. He had no doubt of his abilities to protect her, but still...

Reaching into his reclaimed duster, he withdrew a stake cautiously, so as not to cause panic about him, and slipped it into her pocket. She saw the movement, and looked at him with curiosity in her emerald-esque eyes. 'In case,' he mouthed.

They spent over an hour grinding, jumping, and sashaying to the music. Buffy looked radiant, panting and perspiring from the exertion.

"Want something to drink?" he asked as Hit That began to play. She nodded, and he pulled her closer to the bar. He raised his eyebrow as she yelled 'water' over the din, and chuckled to himself. What a good girl he had. No one would have raised an eyebrow had the little girl ordered something hard, it was that kind of place. And she asked for a water. Which he ordered, along with one of his cousins for himself.

"Cheers," he said, clinking his glass with her plastic bottle, and made his way towards the dank couches in the corner, thinking she was following him. When he reached the desired location, however, no Buffy.

He thrust his drink into the hands of the nearest Vampire, who raised it to him and disappeared. This was NOT the place for Buffy to wander off by herself. Maybe she went to the bathroom. Or maybe she left for some air. Or maybe she left to dance. Or maybe she was currently having the platelets sucked out of her jugular.

He closed his eyes, narrowing in on her scent, her presence. He'd have made a great Jedi. He sensed her several feet away, near the door. Duster flying behind him, he pushed toddler Vamps out of the way on his quest towards his girl. He left the establishment, head whirling around for the blonde he'd come with. Turning a corner, he saw a familiar form. It looked like one of him minions...Robert? Richard? What the hell was that bastit's name?

He flew after him. Apparently his men had had the same idea as him tonight. Normally this wouldn't bother him in the least- he let his minions do what they wanted unless he gave them specific orders, even if they wanted to cross many a domestic border and go party miles away from their base. It was why he hadn't been the victim of a dusty coup, as so many other Master Vampires ended these days. Rambunctious youth. Ungrateful kooks.

Rounding the sharp corner himself, he saw Dorian running his dirty paws through Buffy's golden hair. She struggled, terror in her eyes. Another Vampire sipped her Dasani.

"He takes her scent with him everywhere, all over the mansion. This is the girl, boys. This is the one we've been hungry and horny for for weeks now."

"What the hell is this?" he yelled, voice almost cracking in anger. It was one thing for any Vampire to touch Buffy, it was another for his own flesh and blood to do it. Heads snapped towards him as Buffy gasped his name out of a restricted throat. Another Vamp was holding her by the neck.

"Look, it's our fearless leader." Dorian grinned, but the other minions about him suddenly lowered their eyes to the dirty pavement.

"Orders were not to touch that one. Are you bloody fucking mad? Do you know what happens when my orders go unheeded?"

"Well, see, Spike, it's like this. Remember when your senior, Angelus, was shacking up with us not too long ago?" Like he could forget Peaches and his new hairdo. If there was ever a shortage on hair gel, Spike didn't know what his grandsire would do. But was this really the time to be mentally mocking the poofter?

"Angelus said that if ever a lady showed up in your miserable unlife, things would be a bit different." Angelus would know how Spike got when his heart was being used, wouldn't he? "He said to nip anything in the bud, and that you'd thank us later. He just didn't mention that it'd be a human." Spike fumed. Angelus loved to give unneeded and unwanted advice, didn't he? Dorian's words were right from Liam's mouth; something that would be good for his grandchilde, as the blood line demanded, but would make much-despised Spike miserable.

"Well, good news boys. Angelus doesn't know what he's talking about. Drop the bint."

"I'm thinking no. You saved us from a life of misery and misuse, Spike. And now we're going to save you from fucking feminine wiles." As he twisted his head to the side to lower his fangs to Buff's neck, her frightened eyes fixed on Spike's, her hand came out of her pocked, where it'd been for Dorian's speech. And plunged a sharp, pointed piece of wood into the depths of his heart.

As dust floated to the ground, the Vamp with his hand on Buff's neck pulled her to his chest, hands posed to snap her little neck. The uncertain crew who, moments before, had just been following Dorian, was incensed.

"Look what your whore did, Spike. She killed Dorian!" The rest of the gang was just as frenzied. Murder in their eyes, they closed in. Buffy choked out a scream. Spike pushed through bodies to reach her, twisting the minion's arms away from her.

"Not a chance. She's not staying alive."

"'Fraid I say she is. And I'm the boss. So I win."

"We won't respect the authority of a Vampire who cares more about a human girl than his own minions. Especially his right-hand man." Spike bowed his head. It was a crime to lose Dorian. But there wasn't a chance in hell he was handing Buffy over to these demons.

"No. Back down now, or see why it's not wise to piss a Master off."

"You'd kill us? Over a girl?" One look at Buffy, shaking between him and the minion, and he knew the answer to that. It shocked him. But he knew.

"What if I would?"

"Then I think it's time for you to bite the dust." The minion grinned at his lame pun, the distraction which gave Spike the chance to push him back, and grab Buffy. Slinging her over his shoulder, he ran like Hades was on his heels.

"This isn't over, Spike! You're no longer welcome in Sunnydale, so don't even bother going back!" Spike was out of hearing distance.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Many blocks away, Spike put Buffy down. She immediately gave up the chance to stand on her own, and threw herself at Spike. Sniffling into his chest, he stroked her head, trying to calm her down. If his heart could beat, it would be racing.

Things had happened so quickly. He wasn't sure if he'd imagined the events of the past few minutes or not. Dorian...dead. Minions...not. Buffy...warrant. He swallowed. It was a lot to take in. He was only somewhat positive he hadn't imagined it by the shaking girl in his arms.

Leaning against a hard brick wall, he continued to calm her down, whispering words and not words in her ear. His mind continued to whirl. In sixty seconds...so much undone. He couldn't take anything back. He didn't know if he wanted to.

A motorcycle roared in the distance. His. They wouldn't have dared touch it an hour ago. He had fallen. He had. He looked at Buffy. A swell of hate rose in him; what had she reduced him to? He'd lost everything. Then she raised her eyes, mascara washing down her cheeks, to his. The same lost look haunted them as had when Dorian approached her.

He couldn't hate her. He could hate his minions, he could hate Angelus for his words to situation. But he couldn't hate her.

"You can't go back to Sunnydale." She looked confused.

"Uh, yes I can. I live there. My mom is there. My school is there."

"No, baby. You CAN'T go back to Sunnydale. They'll kill us both."

"Spike, you're a Master Vampire. Just...kill them, or something."

"Buffy, I can't keep forty Vampires away from your neck 24/7. And your mom. And your friends. You can't go back." She looked blankly at him.

Sixty seconds can change two people's entire worlds.


	16. Chapter 16

Spuffy2008 – I'm anticipating about 20 chapters.

All – I'm sorry this has been progressing so slowly. Believe it or not, when I get into the writing mood, I can crank out a chapter pretty fast. It just takes about two months to find the motivation to write for the two hours it takes to procure an update. Anyway, I'm hoping the updating will speed up, because after almost a year of writing chapter-by-chapter, I've figured out how I want to end this, and a rough outline for the few remaining chapters. I like my ending, and will consider it a happy ending, even if some people don't. But my point is, thank you for reading even when I fail to make the updates snappy, thank you for reviewing, and expect more from me quicker this time around.

The bus rolled along, making good time in the California night. Buffy stared out the window; Spike glared at the 'No Smoking' sign. They were going to LA, because that was the first destination offered to them. Buffy hadn't spoken since their talk on the sidewalk. Spike didn't know how to explain things to her.

"Spike," she contradicted his last thought, "my mom's going to kill me."

"You can call her when we get there."

"She'll make me come home."

"Buffy, NO. You don't seem to get it. You go past the 'Welcome to Sunnydale!' sign, your head is no longer attached to your neck. Be as stubborn as you want, I'm not letting you take that step."

"I can't run away to LA, you're the one who doesn't get it." Spike sighed.

"Buffy, I just lost a hell of a lot. Because of you. So if you think I'm going to let them take you too, you're stupid. I'm keeping you safe, no matter what it is you think you want."

"I want to go HOME." She crossed her arms, grumpy.

"They'll probably kill your mum too, if you go back." Silence. Then,

"This is your fault. Everyone around me is in danger, because of you." He growled.

"One could argue that it is, in fact, Buffy's fault."

"Hello, I can't see my mom, or my friends, or my stuff for God knows how long."

"Try never."

"No way. I refuse to leave Sunnydale forever. I'm letting you take me away until things blow over, but then I'm back. And I'm done with you. No more scary death stuff."

"I don't like the situation either, bint. Neither can I go home. So shut up and be glad you have me to keep you alive." She turned away from him, to cry facing the window. He didn't let himself try to comfort her this time.

They rolled into an LA bus station. Spike took her hand automatically, not willing to let her out of his reach again after the incident at the club. She pulled it back to her own body. In the next second, he yanked her against him.

"You really have a thing for bein' kidnapped, don't you?"

"Seeing how you were one of my first kidnappers, I don't see why you're reminding me of this fact." He pushed her away and threw his hands up.

"Fine. I'm just tryin' to save your neck. You want to chance it, be my bloody guest." They walked out of the station and onto the street a few feet apart, keeping the other in their line of side vision at all times.

"Giles will love this," she said suddenly. He turned to her with exhausted eyes. "Me running off with William the Bloody. Something tells me they won't let me be a Protector when this gets around the demon-slaying circles."

"I'm getting tired of you acting like I'm dragging you away from your whole life because I feel like it. There's some damn good motivation here, missy. Involving preserving your life, in fact." She turned up her nose. They walked farther in silence.

"What are we doing here, anyway? LA? Where are we going to stay? What are we going to eat? Do you have any money? Because I sure don't."

"I have some."

"Well, what's the plan, Spike? You got me out of Sunnydale, good job! Did you stop to think about what we'd do after we got out?" He set his jaw. Buffy was about to get socked if she didn't cut it out, and he wanted her to know it.

"I'm looking for a cheap, but clean, hotel. I need to sleep, as day is approaching, and you'd do well to calm down too. We'll decide more when we wake up."

"I'm not sharing a hotel room with you."

"Buff, I wouldn't be wasting time and money on a hotel if I didn't have a little chick with me. Now SHUT THE HELL UP before I lose my temper with you."

"Do not call me Buff." He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back before she could react. "Spike! Ow! You're hurting me!"

"I fell, Buffy. I had minions, I had food, I had a reputation. I lost all that tonight. I can't go back on my turf. And know why? Because I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"Real sweet stuff coming from the guy who's about to break my arm. Let go!" He released her. Picking up the pace so he was several steps in front of her, she jogged to keep up. When he reached a place that he deemed acceptable for his young companion, he shot through the door, her still in fast pursuit.

"'Ello!" he called into the empty lobby. An old-fashioned 'Ring me for service' bell sat on a robin's egg blue counter. He pushed the girl who had just entered forward. "Go ring the bloody bell."

"Too cool?" she asked with a smirk, still panting as she walked to the counter and tapped the noise mechanism. She turned and leaned against the counter as Spike heard her heart rate begin to slow, glaring.

"If there's only one bed, Spikey sleeps on the floor," she sneered as a petite man with coke-bottle glasses limped into the lobby.

"Oh happy day, customers," he drawled in a tone that suggested he would be having more fun slitting his wrists than assisting them.

"Spikey's payin', bint. Shut your pretty little mouth." She crossed her arms as he requested a room for the both of them.

"One double bed or two singles?"

"Two," Buffy piped in from where Spike had come to stand next to her. She still glared up at him, but he was lustily eyeing the man's neck instead of paying attention to her.

"Here's your change, kind sir, here's your key. I hope you enjoy your stay here at the Periwinkle Motel. Checkout is at noon." Buffy snatched the key from across the counter, noted the number 5 on it, and stormed down the hall labeled "Rooms 1-6" to her left.

The hallway was dank and unlit. The green carpet had mysterious white stains; the blue walls had gross orange spatters. Buffy unlocked their door and was forced to slam her miniscule weight into it to cause it to unstick. She clawed around in the dark for the light switch, finally finding it feet away from where it logically should have been, and wrinkled her nose at the room. She fought the urge to turn the single light bulb back off – it was almost better that way. Said light bulb hung exposed from a cobwebby chain, illuminating the floor and walls that matched those in the hallway in color and disgustingness. A single window, covered by a heavy, gray curtain was opposite the door, and the same scratchy-looking material covering the window formed the sheets on both low, rickety beds. A sheenless mirror over an ancient sink were visible through a doorframe, and on closer inspection, a yellowing toilet and cabinet-sized shower stall also existed in the 'bathroom.' There was a tattered armchair in one corner of the room, and a TV tray covered in a dusty doily with an alarm clock, bible, and phone book sat between the beds.

"Okay, this is SO not clean," she said aloud, even though she was not aware of Spike's having entered the room yet. She fumed when she realized he had probably picked this dive just to irritate her. Realizing she could conversely blame herself for annoying him during his hotel search, she instead chose to huff, shut the door, and peel back the covers on the bed nearest the bathroom. The sheets, a color that suggested having been blue at one time, seemed clean enough, so she cautiously slipped between them, suddenly exhausted. She drifted off for a few minutes, but her mind would not fully go into rest-mode until the light was turned off, poor quality though it was. Spike had still not come in when she got up, so she yanked the door open to go and fetch him from the lobby, where he probably still was. If she had to sleep in this dump, he was so going through the same icky torture.

"Are you out here, buttface?" she called into the lobby. No one was visible. A twinge of fear shot through her for the first time since they'd come to LA. Sure, it was a big, scary, different city, but she had a Vampire Master with her for the sake of cheese and rice. He was bigger and scarier than all the mangy crooks that littered the city, so she'd simply been angry and frustrated with him instead of worrying about their location. But now, she couldn't find him. Had he ditched her? Something inside of her knew that Spike wouldn't just leave her alone in Los Angeles, but skipping out on her for a few hours, just to piss her off and get her all jittery was not something he would refrain from doing, especially in his bugged state.

She stopped her hesitant walking forward as she passed the counter, hearing a faint sound. It sounded like...she tried to place it. It sounded like...

Slurping.

She threw herself against the counter and looked over before thinking. Face bloody, face in game mode, Spike looked up at her from his midnight snack, the poor, depressed motel clerk.

"He hated life anyway," he muttered, trying to shrug from his position on the floor. A fresh wave of anger hit him as he realized he was automatically trying to justify himself to Buffy. He shouldn't have to do that. She knew he was a Vamp; Vamps hadda eat. Simple.

"Does that give you any right to take it away?" she asked, eyes wide in horror. His eyes glowed a goldish-green color, illuminating the wet blood smeared on his mouth like Xander with chocolate.

"I am eating, Buffy. You know this is how I take my nourishment."

"It's beastly."

"It's not a surprise to you."

"I didn't want to see you do it, though." He groaned and stood up, dropping the nearly-drained corpse.

"Bitch, you came out here, not the other way around. If you had just gotten settl'd in, 'stead of sniffin' around, you wouldn't have witnessed this pleasant scene."

"I didn't know where you were, and I got nervous," she said flatly, snobbishly, sliding backwards off the counter. Some of the fear dissipated, as he'd gone back to human form upon standing.

"It's probably best that you stay in the room, anyway. I don't smell any other blood-suckers in the place, but be careful. I won't always be around to protect you."

"I'm not moving until you come back with me." She was getting angry again, and still frightened by the blood on his face. How dare he...he was right, this was nothing new, but she'd never...SEEN him snacking before...

It's not fair, she thought. Spike was wonderful, when he wanted to be. Despite being jaw-set over having to flee Sunnydale, his words 'Because I didn't want anything to happen to you...' floated back to her. There was a genuine gentleman in there, buried underneath the fangs. She liked that side of him. But whenever she got too close to it, such as she had at the club tonight, the monster tore out of him.

"Go back to the room, Buffy. If I have to carry you there, it won't be pretty."

"Why can't you come now?"

"If we're going to stay here for more than a night, which I haven't decided on yet, I need to clear the body." Disgust, again. Still fear. Still anger. Pity, for his situation, which she had played a part in. Giddiness, that he cared. She knew he cared. Shame for herself, for being such a hypocrite, still. Maybe more so. Her emotions were running on overload, had been since getting on the bus. There was only one thing that could calm her down. As low as she felt for wanting it at a time like this, it would work. She just knew that it would.

"Fine. Hurry up. Hide the body and come to bed." The sentence rang weirdly in her ears. A few months ago, the words wouldn't even have made sense in combination. Now she was uttering them, and walking away.

A little dazed with her surrender, Spike heaved the man onto his shoulders, and carried him outback to a dumpster, where two teenage girls were toking guiltily. He ignored them as they gasped, and skittered away. He had his own teenage girl to think about.

It wasn't fair. He should not have fallen from power, he shouldn't have had to leave his hometown. Word would get around in the Vampire world, and he'd be screwed running in to any of his old buddies. Which there were quite a lot of, being the age that he was. Buffy was a stupid girl, not worth that kind of loss. He pictured the alternative; throwing her to his minions, and pretending to laugh as they tore her to pieces, so as not to cast suspicion on himself.

He closed his eyes, knowing that he could snap the necks of newborns, rape little girls with fat cheeks until their sides split, suck the last drops of life-prolonging crimson fluid from the necks of screaming mothers, but he could not in a thousand years have let Buffy fall prey to anyone he had the power to stop. Even if he couldn't stop them, they'd have to go through him before even nibbling on her pale, slender throat.

"Oh, Sire," he muttered, feeling like he was swimming as he tried to walk back inside. The air itself formed a resistance against him, and he felt choked for the first time since losing the necessity of breathing. Buffy was...Buffy is...Buffy would be... in him. It was startling to realize, but he had the familiar sensation upon thinking the words that it had been true for a long time. He could not deny her, he could not sacrifice her, because she had become a part of him. More so than Drusilla, more so than his former position as Sunnydale Vampire overlord, more so than Passions, he loved her. He felt inquisitive as to how such a royal mistake of fate had happened, but did not feel the need to ask questions of anybody. It was. It had been. It would be. He was sure.

Feeling sick to his stomach for just minutes before being so annoyed with her so as to bring her to such a dingy building, and for the look he'd put on her face when she witnessed him feeding, he shuffled to the door behind which he could smell her. Spike never shuffled. He wasn't a shuffling kind of guy. But with his recent realization came a humbling that still tugged him down like overintensified gravity.

He knocked on the door behind which the woman he loved pouted and quivered. "'S'me" he called inside, not caring if it woke up the other residents. He'd probably eat them soon anyway...while making sure Buffy was nowhere near. He would not disgrace her again by letting her view him in his most primal state. She had come to expect more from him –Hell knew why- and he felt the solid need to live up to whatever she envisioned him as. Buffy came to the door and opened it, facing him in the unlit room with a gulp. She was anxious over what she was about to do, but knew she had no other choice. It would calm them both down, and both were running themselves to the ground with emotions at the moment.

"Hey," she said, voice wavering a little as he shut the door behind him. She had seen the bloody chin in the hall light while it existed.

"Are we still pissy," she heard him ask grumpily.

"Wipe your mouth off, please." She heard him oblige with his duster as he muttered, "Don't boss me, bitch."

"Get to sleep, Buffy. We have decisions to make tomorrow, and you're at the end of your rope as stands. Maybe you'll be happier with me tomorrow, though I still don't see what the big deal is. Eating is a regular occurrence for me, as is for most, including you-"

His excellent night-vision enabled him to see her as she jumped, and he barely caught her in time. Holding her to him by her legs, she crashed their mouths together with such voracity that he slid to the floor, despite his buckled knees.

"I bloody love you," he said with a grin evident in his voice a few minutes later as he somehow got them to their feet, and allowed her to pull him towards the bed nearest the door. She paused, but then kept going, shedding their clothing, ferociously kissing him.

Did he just say...?

The first time Riley had mentioned the L-word, and yes, he had been the first to bring it up, he had cooked dinner for her, cleared his dorm of any roommates, given her flowers, played her favorite slow music, and whispered it in her ear as they were dancing. She had echoed, and they'd ended up in bed for the first time together soon after. Buffy felt the contrast of her relationships with both men as different as Riley's cool cotton sheets had been to this rough, worn, stretched mystery material she was suddenly lying against. No candles, no flowers, no music. He still tasted like blood. They were nowhere near anything comfortable and normal. What was about to follow would not be slow and beautiful and exciting, but violent and deep and for the simple reason that everything was falling apart, and they needed to bring it back together with this act of tough love. Love. Still love, though harsh.

When she woke up that evening, twined in his tight embrace, his fierce blue eyes on her as they had been for several hours, she could not remember if she had echoed his statement.

"I love you too," she said with a yawn, making statement comical. He grinned at her.

"I'll see if I can't get us a double bed. As much as a bloke likes to lie next to you, it's very crowded in here." Somehow, his acknowledgement without dutifully repeating the phrase, so as to not wear it out, rang true to the nature of their relationship. She snuggled against him, not wanting to think about what had transpired in Sunnydale, on the streets, in the lobby. She just wanted to think about the solid, chilly being lying with her.


	17. Chapter 17

"Oh, Rupert, it's so wonderful of you to come all they way across town just to join me for breakfast," Joyce said at the bottom of the stairs after opening and closing the door. Blushing at her ruse, Giles answered that it was his pleasure to come all the way across town. Both smirked at each other, remembering their steamy night together. "I'll go wake Buffy up and see if she'd like to join us." Joyce skipped up the stairs as Giles watched her ascend, focusing on her hips, then shook his head to clear it.

He went into the dining room where he had helped Joyce set out a fantastic spread of waffles and sausage just minutes before. He heard Joyce calling for her daughter upstairs, and reached sneakily towards the mound of Koolwhip sitting in a glass bowl for a tiny taste.

"BUFFY!" he heard his girlfriend shriek, causing his precarious hand to land completely in the mass of cloudy white. Wiping it off on his pants, he vaulted to and up the stairs, to find Joyce hyperventilating in her daughter's empty room. The bed was unmade, and the window hung open, letting a chilly breeze into the room. Joyce was at the window, leaning dangerously far out, craning her neck for the daughter that wasn't there. "I can't believe this, I can't believe this, she is in SO much trouble!" Joyce ranted, but Giles heard an edge of panic in her voice. The last time Buffy had disappeared...And of course, she couldn't even sneak over to Riley's after recent events. Joyce snatched the cordless phone from Buffy's bedside, and dialed her daughter's cell phone. It rang on the dresser next to Giles. Cursing like Giles had never heard Joyce curse before, she dialed another number, apparently Willow's. He heard her talk to the girl, and ascertain that Buffy was not there. Then she called Xander. The same story. She went as far as to call Riley, but again, no Buffy. Then she really started to panic.

"Rupert, should I call the police?" she asked frantically, pacing back and forth in the girly bedroom. He didn't see any signs of foul play, but still, with Buffy...

"Do you have a copy of the school directory?" She nodded absently. "Go call everyone Buffy has ever mentioned to you, making sure they know to tell her if she's there that she won't be punished if she comes home now."

"Oh, she'll be punished alright, the little sneak."

"Joyce, we need to get Buffy home safely; you know this. For now, offer amnesty in exchange for it. If it doesn't draw her out, we won't know where she is. And after last time, we need to know where she is." Joyce stopped her pacing, and looked at him quizzically.

"You are not Buffy's father, my husband, or anyone who should play a significant role in this family. I have no reason to do what you're telling me." It stung, especially after last night. But he swallowed his pride, and tried to focus on what really mattered; making sure Buffy was just gallivanting around in the teenage way, and had not fallen prey to any nocturnal creatures. Because the scene of the supposed crime was her bedroom, he had less reason than normal to suspect Vamp involvement; they needed an invitation to get in, Buffy knew it, and knew she was not to give it to them. But he was still anxious, just because of her record with disappearing and turning up in Spike's claws.

"You do not have to listen to me. But if you weren't so shaken up, you would have decided to take the same course of action without my help anyway. Regardless, for Buffy's sake, you should do something." Not thinking twice, Joyce rushed downstairs, taking the phone with her. Giles reached into his pocket and removed his wallet, from which he took a miniscule, folded-up brown-paper parcel. From said package, he dumped a sprinkle of lilac powder into his hand, which he tossed up in the air, and watched it sink down upon the room, losing its ability to be seen as it dispersed.

He had spotted a scented candle on Buffy's dresser, barely burned, upon entering. A lighter in his jacket pocket quickly set the wick ablaze, and he threw another pinch of the powder into the flame, which promptly turned a deep purple. The powder on the room's surfaces seemed to be blown about by an invisible wind, as he chanted the first spell he'd had to learn by heart.

"This room alone knows what did conspire. Tell me it's secrets, revealing fire. You walls that screamed silently against their presence, clinging to a bloody, Hellish essence. High, unknown powers, did this room see a Vampire?" He looked directly into the flame, assuming it would turn blue, praying it would turn blue. A sickening red met his eyes, and he gasped. A Vampire had been in here after all.

But why the bloody Hell would Buffy invite one in? It was terrifying, thinking of the possibilities that could have possessed her to do such a thing. Once again, his heart felt heavy and cold. If they had her again, they probably would not be so flippant with her safety this time. She was more than likely dead. And at least one of them had access to the house, where Joyce Summers was still alive. Thank heavens it was sunny out; he'd come back later to seal the house to their kind yet again. Block out the invitation he was positive had been tortured out of Buffy. But before that, his number one priority was finding out if there was anything left to find. With this new information causing him to forget to make amends to Joyce, he practically ran to his car, started it, and was down the street before his lady love looked out of her doorway at his retreating, zooming vehicle.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

That had been that morning. Buffy and Spike had slept through the entire discovery of her disappearance. During the day, he had propped himself up on his elbow, and watched her sleep for hours. Simply soaking in her radiance as she rejuvenated her body and mind felt like rest to him, and he knew that one of the best day's sleep he would ever get, wasn't being spent sleeping. There were many choices to be made when she awoke. Where would they live? What would they do for money? Would she/they take up fake identities? Should he let her call her mother, just to let her know she was okay?

But for now, he listened to the rhythmic, regular sound of her musical heartbeat, and felt her lungs inhale and exhale the stale, motel air. He needed to get her out of here. This place wasn't good for Buffy, and that wasn't even counting the body in the dumpster. He needed to get her someplace cleaner, airier. She needed to be able to stay there safely when he went hunting, or on the prowl for cash. Should they really rely on him to steal money, or could they work for their living? Buffy would probably want to feel a shadow of somewhat independent, so she'd probably like that idea. But he couldn't let her wander off on her own to a job during the day or night; LA was crawling with Vamps. He'd had many a good night here. He realized his brain was racing again, and was able to quell it with simply running his fingers through her silky hair. It would need to be washed soon. She'd need soap, and shampoo, and of course a change of clothes. All they had was the clothes on their backs, some of his money, her stake, his lighter, and their bus ticket stubs. He'd eaten not long ago, but she had to be starving. Once she woke up, if it was dark enough yet, he'd take her to a nicer joint for some dinner, to make up for the shotty motel. Thinking again. He lowered his free hand to her sensuous hip, made just for his hand to rest upon. No more thinking. Only Buffy. But he needed to think about Buffy. He'd do that later.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Five hours after screeching into his driveway, Giles scratched his head at the result of his magical research lying before him. He'd done a locator spell in Sunnydale, and Buffy had not shown up. He'd momentarily broken down, before doing an older, more complicated spell to search her out organically instead of spiritually. He wanted to find her body before anyone else, in case it was dumped in a lake or hastily buried behind a warehouse or anything typical of Spike's lackeys. To see if he had to stake her (God no) or not. But, strangely, her body was not in Sunnydale. Bizarre. He'd expanded his search to a few towns around, knowing the Vampire aptitude for partying outside city limits. Still no Buffy. He expanded to all of California, as that was the next largest map he possessed, and found her to be in Los Angeles.

What in the blazes was she doing there?

But a sudden streak of hope had possessed him to revert to the original, spirit-seeking spell, that would only locate living beings. He'd felt like crossing his fingers as the glowing crystal pinpointed a living Buffy in Los Angeles. He'd felt like dancing, before being struck by how bizarre the situation was yet again. He'd say that she'd went with friends, or to see her deadbeat father, if he was not positive that a Vampire had something to do with her disappearance. Rearranging his materials, he did a locator spell for the only Vampire he possessed an artifact of; he'd nicked Spike's black nail polish several years back. He couldn't even remember how or why. It was not important. His search proved that a living Buffy and an undead Spike were in the city of Los Angeles. She may have been alive, but the news did not make him feel any better when he learned this new fact.

Gathering up some of his more favored weapons, he remembered Joyce. He needed to un-invite Spike, if that was indeed who had kidnapped Buffy, from the Summers home. And he technically needed to apologize to Joyce, though his time could already be running out.

He hurried over to Revello drive, where he found Willow and Xander trying to comfort Ms. Summers, breakfast cold on the table. He deeply cared about Joyce, it suddenly occurred to him, but Buffy was in trouble, and he didn't have long to stay.

"Hello, Rupert," she tried to smile up at him from the couch where she was crying with Xander's awkward arm around her. She seemed to be too distracted to care that he'd run out on her that morning. "We're getting ready to call the police. We decided that if she wasn't home by 2, that would be the cutoff time." Willow slid past him carrying a cup of tea for the distraught mother, looking quite distraught herself. Willow and Xander knew that it had been Vampires who kidnapped Buffy the first time, and without the knowledge of her being alive that Giles had, were probably the most worried of the four of them.

Willow...

An idea occurred to him that would get him on the road to the city even faster. Pulling the red-haired witch aside into the kitchen, he quickly handed her some of the items he had carried in with him in briefcase.

"No time to explain. Go up to Buffy's window, and seal it to all supernatural visitors." She blanched.

"What? How? Why? Do you know where Buffy is?"

"I might. I'm going to go rescue her; she's alive, but I don't know how long she has. Please do the spell Willow. I believe in your abilities, and if I take the time to do it myself, that's time away from my Buffy campaign."

"Sure, of course. Um, how do I do it?"

"I lent you a book on protection spells. Plum-colored, browning pages, coffee stain on the back cover?"

"Oh yea, the coffee stain book! This spell is in there?"

"Yes, it is to un-invite Vampires into a residence once they have received an invitation."

"Wait, Buffy let a Vampire in here?" Willow freaked out. Giles shushed her.

"Please, not so loud. I don't want to alarm Joyce. I believe so, but she would have been forced too. Buffy knows full well the Vampire threat- I've been training her for it. I will do everything in my power to stop whomever took her, but I need you to make sure that Joyce is safe."

"Of course. Is there anything else I, or Xander, can do?"

"Keep her company, be positive. Don't mention anything that would scare her, such as the truth. You can explain to Xander what is going on if you must, but not a word to Joyce."

"Cross my heart," Willow sheepishly made the motion.

"Well then. I'm off."

"Break a leg!" Willow nervously called after him as he returned to the living room.

"Joyce, you know that I want to stay here with you in your time of need, but I just got a call that my brother has died back home, and I must go to his family despite the inappropriate time."

"Please stay, Rupert. I know you care about Buffy too. You should be here, waiting for her to come home safely." No, he thought. I should leave to see if I can't get her home safely. The look in Joyce's eyes made his heart ache, but she spoke again before he had to further lie to extricate himself from the house. "No, I'm sorry, I'm being selfish. If your brother is dead, that's more important for you to take care of. I'm very sorry for your loss." He approached the couch to take her hand, raise it to his lips, and kiss it gently. This woman was very important to him, and the unusualness of his approaching task was so evident that he felt it would be a fateful errand. Something inside him spoke of impending death. For him, Spike, Buffy, or any combination, he had the steely feeling in his gut that it was near. He might not make it back to see Joyce again. But he'd do all in his power to make sure her daughter could return to her safely.

"I care about you, and your daughter, Joyce. I'm sure she'll be home safely by the time I return."

He left the Summers house as he heard Joyce mumble behind him, "I guess I forgot that he had a brother."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

As much as he hated the thought of being among Protectors again, Giles had no choice but to contact them. He couldn't very well carry his magical belongings around everywhere, and leaving the lot of them in his car, or even a hotel room, while he sought out Spike and Buffy, and any other Vamps that could possibly have accompanied them. The council owned an office in a secure building, made even more secure by magical safeguards, where Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, a young pipsqueak of a Protector operated from. He normally had an assistant, but to Giles' knowledge, the woman was dead to date.

"Allow me to understand, Rupert. You need to make use of my official headquarters for a personal mission, involving a missing girl, while your own post sits neglected, for an indefinite amount of time?"

"Wesley, first of all, the girl was kidnapped by a Vampire. Secondly, this Vampire, whom I know is in your city, is the Master of Sunnydale, thereby reducing the threat-level back in town. Thirdly, I am your senior, and you should accommodate me in my task, nay, assist me."

"Well well well, wait until the council hears about this. Loner Rupert Giles requesting favors of us." Giles wondered if it was possible to sound any smugger.

"Not the council, Wesley. Just you." He didn't have time for this; he was in the office parking lot, wasting time.

"I represent the Council in Los Angeles," Wesley replied in the same voice he had been using since finding out what Giles' request was, spitting out the Protector textbook answer.

"Can you help me or not, my good man?" Giles finally sighed.

"I would be delighted to have company on my patrols tonight. I will buzz you in now."

"No no, wait a minute, I'm here on my own mission, not to help you."

"Rupert, your cooperation will make things much easier. You will be free to run your own investigation when I do not have need of you, and in doing so, you may use me and all my resources. I find it a very fair deal for the both of us, and am somewhat disappointed we didn't think of it sooner, us being such close neighbors and whatnot." The phone clicked the ending to the call, and Giles gritted his teeth and he quickly made his way into the building. Perhaps this would work out after all. Or perhaps, he didn't have any time to loose.

Wesley met him at the elevator, and they shook hands warmly. Though Giles despised what the Council had come to stand for, it was a nice change to see someone else in tweed. The young man seemed much less haughty in person, and before Giles knew it, they had sat down to tea and to discuss.

"William the Bloody is in this city, and he has one of my charges with him."

"William the Bloody, are you serious?" Wesley popped a sugar cube raw into his mouth, and sucked on it like a child as he thought. "It should have been expected; we're so dense, Rupert."

"And why are we dense, my young counterpart?"

"Because Angelus just happens to also be in town." Giles nearly spat out his tea. Of course it couldn't be coincidence that the two fateful males were in the same city at the same time. But how did Buffy play into that?

"What about Darla and Drusilla?"

"They don't seem to be here. Sources have them in Dublin as recently as a week ago. But there is no doubt in my mind that Angelus and Spike, as many of the Vampires I slay know him by, are working in tandem here." Giles nodded absently. Perhaps his time would be better spent hunting Angelus, if Spike was indeed with his grandsire. Two birds with one stone. Get Buffy, take out two prominent members of the Aurelius line.

"I will help you, Wesley. But if I don't like your methods, I work alone, with mine, for my cause. Agreed?"

"Of course, sir. It's lovely to have you on board. Shall we review my planned patrol for tonight?"

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

He sensed the younger Vamp somewhere in his domain. Angelus growled at Spike's scent, floating to him over the fumes of automobiles and unspilled blood. What the Hell was Spike doing here; he hadn't asked for him to come to him, and Spike normally tried to avoid him as much as possible. Of course, it was probable that Spike didn't know he was here; he favored Europe to this strange industrial world, and Spike wasn't in tune with his family enough to feel Angelus' presence like the elder felt the younger.

The rage curling up within him caused him to be even more brutal in picking his target than usual. A large, but crippled old man jovially crossing at a sidewalk, tipping his hat to the cars he passed, carrying a single grocery bag. Angelus noted the wedding ring on his left hand, and licked his lips. Wifey and kids would miss the old geezer. Perhaps there would even be some grandkids to whimper over his death. And with an annoyingly friendly personality such as he had, he was no doubt beloved by his community. Wouldn't they be sad when he showed up nailed to a police barricade?

He tried to clear his head of all but the hunt as he stalked his oblivious prey. Spike was really the last thing he needed right now. Darla and Drusilla had proclaimed their bitchy little selves to be 'bored' of 'tedious' Angelus. Yawning over his well planned-out and artistic killings, they'd ran off to Ireland with a pack of younger Vampires, excited about their fresh unlife, ready to fight off mobs and kill because they could, not because it defined them as it did Angelus. It reminded him so much of Spike, that the mere thought of the punk being anywhere near him disgusted him. Maybe he'd finally do what he'd wanted to all those years ago, and put a lovely chair leg through Spike's heart. With the girls gone, there was no one to stop him. Or was he slipping? Of course he was; he could cause Spike far more pain than that. Torture him a little, physically, mentally. Take away his toys. That was the way to do it. The ladies didn't like it drawn-out to an art form? Well, that's why they were humping the little freckled Vamps. They'd return within the year, he knew their pitiful ways. And he'd have a lovely pile of dust to hurl at them, making them both, Darla with her secret soft spot, Drusilla with her insane adoration, regret leaving him to do what he pleased to whom he pleased.


	18. Chapter 18

"Lucy, I'm home!" Buffy called into their apartment of four days as she closed the door and set her bags down.

"I bloody hate that show," her handsome male friend called from the bedroom where he was on the computer, studying Mapquests of the surrounding area.

"How can you hate I Love Lucy?" she gasped, entering the doorway and taking in his shirtless appearance with artistic appreciation.

"Simple. It's sodding awful." He turned the chair around and slid out of it, coming towards the entrance which framed his girl. "I hope you got me my Wheetabix." She rolled her eyes as he embraced her, burying his head in her floral-scented hair.

"I almost forgot, but then happened to glance at my shopping list, and decided to take a second look at the item circled, underlined, exclamation-pointed, and with stars drawn around it."

"You forgot my vodka the other day." She stood on her tiptoes to plant a tiny, happy kiss on his smooth lips.

"I didn't forget it; I'm not old enough to buy it, Spike." He followed her to the door to pick up her two grocery bags, and then to the kitchen where he helped her shelf the newly purchased food. "What did you do today?"

"I scoped out the area on the computer, though I still prefer leaning the layout myself. There's a dozen shoddy complexes in the area; should make many a meal for me."

"Remember what you promised; only bad guys." He sighed at the reiteration.

"I swear, luv. Pickpockets, rapists, prostitutes, maybe a crime lord or two." She nodded and smiled, and went to go put a carton of orange juice in the fridge.

After the incident with the man at the motel, she had begged him to only feed upon society's dregs. Food was food to the Vampire, and if it would keep him from disappointing Buffy, it was worth the extra few minutes of sniffing to track down a do-wronger. It was how they'd come into the apartment; Spike had tracked two convenience store robbers back to the small, but clean and cozy set of rooms. Consisting of a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen/miniscule dining area, living room, front hall, and balcony, it came equipped with a television set, phone service, computer with internet, fully furnished, and cupboards well-stocked with tofu and cheap beer. Luckily, they had found plenty of money under the mattress, which Buffy was using to buy edible food and drink for the new residents. They knew they could only live there for a few weeks, a month at tops, but they would repeat the house-hunting process in the same way the next time. For now, Spike felt comfortable leaving her alone at night when he went a-hunting, and was even fine with her leaving the house at certain points during the day to stock up. In the future, she was interested in going back to school, under a false name of course, and he wouldn't mind finding some undead buddies to hang with when she was at said establishment. For now, though, Buffy could almost compare them to newlyweds, what with their developing pattern of staying home at all hours, unless it was truly necessary to venture from their little sanctuary. A good percentage of that time was being spent in bed, adding to the similarity.

"What should we do tonight?" she asked as she finished putting away the items. He hopped up on the counter, and let his eyes slide slowly over her California-girl form. Dressed in snug jeans and a tank top she'd insisted on paying for (though they'd used stolen money; he decided not to point the irony out to her in the event that it got her riled up again), she looked radiant.

"I can think of a few things," he suggested in a much deeper voice than he'd intended, licking his lips. She giggled, and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I was thinking more along the lines of that thing."

"What thing, pet?"

"That thing you said I could do once things settled down..." she trailed off, looking hopefully at him. Spike sighed, and slid down from the counter.

"I think it's too soon, baby. You've only been gone a week."

"My mom could have worried herself into an early grave by now. I want to do it, Spike." he sighed again, remembering making the promise to her that she could get ahold of her mum to reassure the lady she was alright.

"I suppose, if you were willing to wait for me to go feed, and nick a car along the way, we could drive to an out-of-city payphone and be back before sunrise. But if you don't want to wait, we don't have-"

"Thankyou thankyou thankyou, Spike!" she squealed as she threw herself into his arms, peppering kisses on his bare chest. He chuckled, holding her to him.

"So easy to make you happy." He kissed the top of her head. "But what shall we do in the mean time?"

"Let me guess; you can think of a few things?" He scooped her up in answer, and carried her into their bedroom. The hilarity of the situation- A Vampire Master playing house with an underage human girl- struck him often, but his mind was elsewhere at the moment. He dumped her on the bed, adopted a sinister, yet human, looking face, and crawled up the bed towards her.

"Don't hurt me, Mr. Vampire," she mock-pleaded, a smile evident in her voice, scooting backwards.

"Why not, little girl?"

"Because I'm terribly afraid of your fangs. I don't want them to bite me." He reached her when she couldn't back up anymore, and pulled himself over her tiny body.

"Not like this, you mean?" he asked, letting his blunt teeth just graze her neck.

"I-I suppose that's okay, as long as your fangs stay hidden." His eyeteeth traced her jugular, and her heart began to race. She forgot about the playful scenario going on as she thought back to musings she'd been having lately. Living with a Vampire, kissing Spike goodbye as he left to go hunting each night, she had begun to wonder what it felt like...Spike stopped his teasing as he felt her swallow.

"What's wrong, luv?"

"Nothing. Why stopping?" she asked with a grin.

"There's something on your innocent little mind. Tell me," he commanded softly, pushing himself up with his elbows, and trailing a finger along her jaw line.

"It's not important."

"If you won't tell me what, clearly it is." She bit her lip, staring into his icy blue eyes. She'd told him how beautiful they were the previous night, and had discovered something fascinating; Spike had an inferiority complex when it came to his looks. He had stuttered something between a brush-off and a thank you when she told him, and giggling, she had repeated herself over and over throughout the night. She wondered why, when he was so very...good looking. Very very good looking. Being rejected? She knew about Drusilla, was it possible that another lady had refused Spike? She didn't know much about his past at all, and was determined to find out in the upcoming months they'd spend together. She wasn't sure how long she would stay with Spike overall, especially with her human aging. Maybe he'd keep her with him until she died; maybe he would find a safe place for her within a few years. Or maybe, she thought with a shiver, which he of course noticed, he'd turn her. "Pet, what's the problem?" She did not want to be a Vampire. That she was sure about. She kept Spike in line as a human; if she was turned, she wouldn't care about him eating bad guys or not. Plus, Giles would be so upset...not that he would be thrilled with her present situation, if he knew about it. But her being a Vamp would kill him. No turning. However, turning was not always the result of...

"Spike, hypothetically, would you ever bite me?" He rolled off her so he was beside her, keeping his fingers at her face.

"Is that what you're worryin' about? Sweetheart, I would never hurt you."

"Would you if, um, if I, uh, asked you to?" He blinked. And blinked again. And a third time for good measure.

"Well...as long as it didn't hurt you, I'd do anything you asked of me. But fangs are painful things, Buffy." He blinked a few more times in thought. "How hypothetical is this?"

"I wanna know what it feels like..." she whispered. "Is it like sucking?"

"Now you're talking feeding, not just biting." He closed his eyes, trying to keep calm. Her voice was inquisitively naïve enough, but if she was asking him to taste her...he'd wanted nothing more since first meeting her, when he'd made his little bargain NOT to bite her in exchange for being brought to his lair safely. But he'd refrained, not only because of the bargain, but because she was more than food almost from the beginning.

She was looking at him with those big green eyes, and he still wasn't sure what she wanted. He felt it best not to assume anything.

"You made me promise never to bite you, if you recall. Ever. I swore I wouldn't. It'd be going against my word." He was close to shaking now. Always attuned to the coppery smell coming from her, it was now overwhelming his senses.

"I change my mind," he faintly heard. She saw him gulp. She realized she was pressing the issue, but now that she'd officially voiced her request, she didn't think she could handle taking it back. "Please, Spike. Show me?"

"Are you sure?" he asked after a beat, still sounding hesitant. "Yea, it can be pretty bloody erotic, but there's still a fair amount of pain involved."

"Erotic how?" she asked, sounding like a little girl again. Again, he started to shake. This was not something he should have gotten himself into; if she changed her mind, there would be no going back for his inner demon now that it was hungry for her. But he was furiously trying to get her to change her mind, still unable to take advantage of her in a food-like way. He couldn't do it. He kinda needed to.

"Feels pretty damn good," he muttered. "Don't ask me to hurt you, Buffy."

"Please?" His eyes were closed again, and she saw faint movement behind the lids as his face erupted in bumps and ridges. She gasped as he grabbed her before she could move away, wrenched his mouth to her neck, covered her mouth with his hand, and bit down, instinctively, terrified.

She screamed into his hand, as raw, animalistic force ripped her veins open to him. The first pull was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, but a cruel wave of flaming tears to Buffy. The second numbed her, but still stung as it left her body. The third...she began to see stars. Was it because it hurt so much? Or because she was tingling all over, completely at the mercy of her trusted monster, crying for something only another pull could satisfy. Careful not to take much, Spike only took one more mouthful, feeling her gasping into his hand.

He took his hand away, removed his bumpies, and began to lap at the marks he'd just given her. Such a shame...he'd always admired her soft, white neck. But on the other hand, the little red marks against the pale skin gave him a dominant feeling over her. Claim...no one else to touch her. His. And of course, she'd allowed him the pleasure no other Vampire would ever experience. Hers.

She looked straight at him, mouth still in an O. His mouth curved into a smile as he felt her hands pawing at him, benefiting from the sensation she'd just experience. She wasn't fully satisfied yet. He could fix that.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Not having the desire to feed on watery blood with absolutely no comparison to his Buffy's, Spike chose not to go hunting that night. He went out for about ten minutes to jack a car, and then the two were speeding off on her errand, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes every now and then to smile shyly. What they'd just done...neither knew of anything else like it. To both their knowledge, the most personal, intimate sharing of self possible of being experienced. She touched her neck, and he watched her do it with a smirk.

"Do me a favor, pet?"

"Anything," she said softly, making him grin. Grinning without malicious intent behind it was new to Spike. It felt awkward but nice on his face.

"Don't put a Band-Aid on that." She laughed lightly.

"I won't." Apart from that, they didn't speak as he drove her to a suitable phone for calling Joyce. She wrenched her hands in her lap, trying to plan her words in advance, as Spike tried to focus on the slithering city traffic. It was hard with Buffy beside him, her wounds still open enough to let the scent of blood waft from her body more than usual.

He pulled up to a gas station thirty minutes later, shutting off the engine of the stolen Volvo as she stared at the rickety phone booth.

"Go on now, if anyone comes toward the booth, I'll get out of the car and send them on their way." She gulped, but he knew that really wasn't what she worried about. He leaned over to unbuckle her, and cup her chin with his hand.

"Or we could go back?" She pursed her lips and shook her head.

"No. I need to do this." He nodded as she pulled back and got out of the car. She reached the phone booth and pulled the door closed, picked up the receiver, and deposited the coins she'd gathered from underneath the couch cushions before leaving the apartment. She dialed the familiar number, and listened to it ring.

"Buffy?" her mother's anxious voice on the other end greeted her. She gasped, wondering how her mother had known, then realized Joyce had probably been answering the phone likewise for the past four days. Her face screwed up as hot tears settled in her eyes, but she couldn't make a sound. She missed her mommy, and it broke her heart to have put her through this ordeal. "Buffy, is that you?" Joyce's voice sounded so hopeful that the greeting was torn from Buffy's throat thoughtlessly.

"Hi, Mom."

"Oh my God, Buffy!" Joyce's voice bordered on hysterical as she sank to the kitchen floor on the other end, pressing the phone painfully to her ear. "Oh, God, Buffy!"

"What's up?" she heard her daughter's small voice on the other end. Buffy was trying hard not to lose it, but in Joyce's state of mind, all she heard was a calm, happy teenage girl.

"I've been so worried...where are you?"

"Um, can't say. But I'm safe. That's mainly why I'm calling." She sniffled quietly, trying to keep up the Buffy-esque banter with the person most familiar with it.

"Please come home, sweetie. Please, please come home."

"I can't. I want to, but I can't. I'm really, really, really sorry." Joyce moaned.

"No, don't tell me you've been kidnapped again?"

"Uh..." What to tell, what to tell? She hated hearing her mother crying and moaning; it would be much better for the both of them to make Joyce angry. "I met this guy." It was true, technically. "And we ran away together." Still true. "And he's taking care of me, so I'm perfectly safe, in this location I cannot reveal to you, with my heroic boyfriend." She continued to try and stress the safety thing.

"Buffy...I have no idea what to say. You worried me SICK to run away with a guy I've never met before?" Mission accomplished; Joyce's anger was dissipating as she began to get pissed. Buffy winced automatically, but figured she had to keep going. Joyce would hate it, but she wouldn't fear for Buffy's life.

"Yea, pretty much. I'm really, really, really sorry, again."

"What-you-why-how-Buffy!"

"So anyway, now you know the truth, and you can stop worrying."

"Stop worr- Buffy Anne Summers, you get your ass back to Sunnydale NOW!"

"No can do, Mom. Wish I could, though."

"Why can't you?" The freaked-out edge came back to Joyce's voice. "He won't let you go?"

"No, no, not at all! He's not like that at all!"

"Who the hell is this boy? And why can't you come home?"

"His name is...Will. We can't come home because, uh, because he's wanted by the FBI for a crime he didn't commit, and we have to stay on the run until his name is cleared."

"BUFFY! HOME! NOW!"

"I love you Mom, but I want to stay with him until this horrible ordeal is over. Don't know when that could be, probably awhile...but I'm safe!"

"Bring him with you then," Joyce ordered.

"Mom...I can't. I have to go. Give my best to Giles, Willow, and Xander."

"All people who are worried completely SICK about you, though not as much as me! I'm going to find you, young lady, I'm going to get people on it, and they will find this criminal boyfriend of yours, and drag you home screaming, and preferably shoot him for taking you-" Buffy hung up, not wanting to listen to her mother's misguided rant. It had been hard, but she felt like she had done the right thing. She climbed back into the car, and quickly related the conversation to Spike as he drove her home. He seemed amused by her story, and as they laughed at the ludicrous parallels between the fake situation and their own, she felt a little bit better. Spike had that effect on her.


	19. Chapter 19

Rupert Giles slammed his fist down on the desk in triumph. After over a week of trying to locate Angelus through spells, the shifty character's location had been pinpointed. Wesley looked up at him from across the room, wondering why the unorthodox banging.

"I've found him!" Immediately, Wesley was jogging to the series of maps set out on the oak table in front of the other man, looking to see the raven bones arranged in a circle around a certain neighborhood.

"There's no time to lose, then," Wesley said somewhat excitedly, somewhat nervously. They had come back from their nightly patrol, exhausted, but decided to try the locator spells just one more time before heading to bed. Their energy rejuvenating as the adrenaline kicked in, they quickly collected a few choice weapons, and darted though and out of the building to the Council-supplied SUV waiting in a parking garage a few buildings over.

Giles drove, while Wesley fiddled with a compass-like tool he wore around his neck. He held his mouth at an odd angle as other cars, lights, and signs flew past them, looking over at Giles ever few minutes.

"What is it?" the older Protector finally asked him, annoyed.

"Tonight seems to be quite the night for Vampire activity. We've already sped past at least twenty signals, and most were strong enough to lead me to believe that there were multiple creatures in the area. It's too bad we didn't patrol this part of town earlier tonight."

"Wesley, Angelus has to be our top priority. We can't go stopping ever few blocks to dust a hapless fledgling! We're going after the Master!"

"But Rupert," he practically whined, "Angeuls has been here for a few weeks already; we can nab him anytime. Who knows when this many Vampires will be again roaming the streets, unsuspecting?"

"We have not been searching for one Vampire all week just to let him slip through our fingers when an easier target comes along!" he declared adamantly. Wesley was childishly pouting, which finally clued Giles in. "You're scared," he said simply, wanting to lord it over the younger man, but too focused on the situation.

"He's a Master! THE Master of the Aurelius line! Sure, it was fantastic and noble searching him out, but I never assumed that I personally would have anything to do with his dusting!" Giles gritted his teeth, not breaking from his course.

"You willingly hopped into this oversized, gas-guzzling vehicle with me, Wesley!"

"Got caught up in the moment," was the sheepish answer.

"You've known he was in your domain for over a month, you seriously never thought you'd run into him?"

"Well, of course I did! Haven't you fantasized about being the Protector to bring down someone of Angelus' reputation?"

"Clearly, as that is currently our destination!" Wesley glanced at the tracker in his hand. Snorting angrily, Giles looked for a place to pull over. 

"What are you doing?"

"Go and hunt the baby Vamps. I have work to do." Wesley began to protest. "You'll be of no help to me with your current attitude. You're scared; you'd rather be anywhere but with me and Angelus. This is my task, anyway. He is my link to Spike, and therefore Buffy." He nearly slammed the car into the curb, and Wesley opened the door, putting a foot on the pavement. He looked back at Giles, his gut telling him to pull back the leg. But a glowing symbol on the tracker caught his attention, and he raced off to attend to business. Truthfully, he would have liked to be the Protector to bring down Angelus. But he knew that he was just an ordinary Protector, who wanted to kill ordinary Vampires. The legends batted around the Council gossip circles were true. Rupert Giles was not an ordinary Protector.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Giles slipped a credit card from his leather wallet to use to pick the lock. He had been thrown when it turned out that Angelus' location was inside a seedy apartment building, but the spell to locate him had registered less than an hour ago, and he was certain it was the place. Equally certain that, as long as Angleus had stayed in the same place for the past hour, his animalistic ears had picked up on the breaking-and-entering Protector, Giles strung his crossbow before kicking the door open and bounding into the apartment.

He released the arrow as soon as he recognized the tall hair of the hellish man, not all that surprised when Angelus stepped to the side automatically to avoid it. Pushing the door closed with his foot, Giles strung another.

"Who the hell are you?" Angelus asked, taking a swig from a bottle of beer he'd been opening when he heard the sounds at the door. Giles stared at the Master Vampire who appeared to be making himself at home.

"Does it matter, Vampire?" he asked, aiming but not releasing the tautness. Angelus shrugged.

"You look surprised to see me. Was I not the demon you were sniffing out?" He grinned, letting his dark eyes slide over the living room he was standing in humorously. No idea in all the Hells why his grandsire had taken up lodgings here of all places. There were other human scents in the set of rooms, some older than others, and he distinctly smelled blood in the bedroom. It puzzled him, but he didn't worry about it. All questions he'd drag out of Spike later on.

"What demon do you think I should be after?" Giles asked carefully, having figured from the girly décor of the rooms that Angelus most certainly did not frequent this place, wondering whom it was that did.

"A distant relative of mine. I'm actually waiting to see him now. Perhaps it's out of my character, but I'm taking great amusement in observing his standard of living. Would you like to wait with me? Maybe play a game to help us pass the time?" He cocked his head and stared at the skin exposed above Giles' tie, and even the hardened Protector felt a twinge of fear shimmy up his spine under the famed Master's stare.

"I take it you mean Spike. I didn't know the two of you were running together again." Angelus snorted, leaning up against a wall with his beer, appearing relaxed. But Giles knew he could be across the room in the blink of an eye.

"Don't flatter the scrawny punk by such suggestions. He'll be the one running once I get done with him." Giles furrowed his brow. Wesley and himself had assumed that Angelus and Spike were working together. This blew their whole theory out of the water- and he still had no idea how Buffy fit into all of this. "So, I didn't realize Spikey would have visitors. I can see by the fancy weapons and determined look that you're a Protector, but I wasn't under the impression that Spike was high enough in this world to warrant someone searching him out in his cozy home." Spike's home? Spike was living in this apartment with the flower vases and the colorful afghan? As he scanned the room, wary of Angelus, he noted that said accessories appeared to be newer, and differently coordinated than most of the larger, duller furniture. Perhaps Spike had redecorated, but the room had a woman's touch.

Spike...a woman...Buffy! Despite the fact that Angelus was not on good terms with Spike, the Protectors' efforts to track him down had indeed led to finding Buffy. Well, almost. Except for the fact that the sunny girl did not appear to be there at the moment, nor her bleached kidnapper.

"I've hunted down Spike for reasons which are my own. You are simply a bonus trophy." He let the arrow fly, already knowing that Angelus would avoid it. Barreling forward, he next tossed the bow itself at the Vampire, both moves causing Angelus to focus on items other than Giles. The stake was in his hand, aimed at Angelus' heart, when the Master grabbed a lamp and threw it into Giles. It crashed against his arm, nearly knocking the stake to the floor, causing Giles to loose precious concentration. Angelus shifted to game face with a sinister grin, walking slowly towards his prey.

Giles quickly sprung to his feet, switched hands, and swung at the Vampire. He had grown to be ambidextrous over the years, and once again it helped him out. His right arm was bruised and it hurt to swing it as forcefully as he now swung his left. Angelus easily avoided him, but Giles kept up the fight well enough to hold the Vampire's fangs at bay. They tornadoed through the living room, knocking over furniture, tracking dirt from their shoes all over the sofa. Giles was tiring, but he fought with the voracity a man his age should have been lacking. For Buffy...to save Buffy...Angelus stood between him and Spike, and Spike had Buffy...

"I humbly admit I admire your stamina, old man, and anticipate tearing out your strong, healthy heart." His voice carried into the hallway, where a couple was walking towards the door behind which it had come from. The man had been tense since getting into the elevator, having felt familiar tingles of anger. But he had not been able to place them until he heard the voice. He stopped walking, hand clenching around Buffy's wrist.

"Oh my God...that's Peaches!" she practically screamed. What? How did she know his nickname- No time for that.

"Hide, Buffy," he pushed her back towards the elevator, not wanting to explain and startle her.

"Why is Peaches at our place? And who is he fighting?"

"I'll find out, now go!" A second voice ripped from the apartment. It was a good thing it was nighttime, when most occupants of the building were out partying or imbibing in less-than-legal activities. Things were mighty loud from where they were standing.

"Then it's a battle for hearts- literally!"

"Giles!" she screamed, running past Spike into the apartment. The door was unlocked, and as she threw it open, looked at the two dueling men on her couch, and felt Spike run into her from behind, she felt absolutely no need to stop screaming.

"Buffy!" "Giles!" "Spike!" "Protector!" "Spike!" "Peaches!" "Peaches!" "...girl!" Spike pushed her to the entrance wall, and flew past her to join the fight. Both were his enemies, so he needed to ask no questions about whose side he should be on. But Angelus tired of Giles the minute he saw the blonde Vampire in the doorway, and shoved the Protector in a blind direction, which happened to be Buffy's.

"Giles!" she cried, rushing to catch him, and ending up with both of them on the floor. "What are you doing here?" Mere yards away, Spike had slipped into game face, and the two Vampires were snapping and growling at each other. It reminded Buffy somewhat of dogs, but not cute little cocker spaniels or anything of the sort. The kind of dogs that wore spiked collars, and had signs reading "Beware of Dog" on their fences.

"The more important thing is, what are you doing here? Has Spike hurt you?" He saw a flash of red on her neck, bite marks that were growing into scars due to their constant reopening. He scrambled away from her, holding up the stake in his hand. "Back, Buffy!" She rolled her eyes, forgetting for the moment the men who had dove to the floor and were rolling around trying to affix each of their fangs to the other's neck.

"I'm not a Vampire, Giles! You need to get out of here!" He stared, then withdrew a small, wooden cross from his pocket. Buffy stepped forward so he could place it over the bite marks, as Angelus missed, and his fangs scraped Spike's cheek.

"I have no idea what's going on! Explain to me in the car," he exhaled quickly, pulling her to her feet and out the door.

"No, wait, Spike's still in there!"

"I know that, and I'm getting you out of here while he's occupied!" Inside, Spike punched his Grandsire in the face, and looked to see where Buffy had gotten too. He saw the Protector dragging her down the hall, and growled.

"Hold that thought, Peaches," he said as he sprinted out the door. Angelus watched the duster-clad figure retreat, and saw what he was running after. Come to think of it, the little girl in the pink sundress had shown up with Spike...Getting a dark, sinister, wonderful idea, Angelus brought up the tail of the parade, running after the other three persons.

Directly in front of the elevator, Spike grabbed Buffy by the waist, wrenching her arm away from Giles, and held her protectively. She was blinking at Giles, angry.

"I'm telling you, I need to stay with Spike!"

"Good God, Spike, what did you do to her?" Rupert asked him with tired eyes.

"Can't figure out why she's acting this way?" Spike said with a quirk of his eyebrows. Momentarily forgetting Peaches, he pulled Buffy into his chest, and she willingly sunk against him. "Watch the Soaps sometime, bloke!"

"What?" Giles asked, before Spike felt himself being twirled around by the man behind him. He and Buffy were now facing Angelus, who looked angry, if not confused.

"Answer the man, Spike. What did you do to this little girl who seems in no hurry to leave you? I'm a little interested myself." He leered at Buffy, who looked at him purely with disgust. Being in Spike's arms alleviated any fears beyond that.

"None of you business, mates," Spike responded frigidly. "You two just go back to duking it out, and me and my girl will be on our merry way." He tried to back them into the elevator, not liking the way the brooding Master was sizing up Buffy, but Giles' stake poked him in the back.

"I wouldn't back up any further, if I were you," he hissed.

"Oh, no, Protector. Let William the Bloody be our guest, and go heroically dashing out into the sunny streets of LA." Spike cursed quietly as he remembered himself and Buffy hurrying back to the apartment after a fun night of clubbing, clearly not wanting him to burn to a crisp in the approaching sunrise. How much time did he have left? He sniffed the air, thankful for his natural ability to sense the sun's patterns. He didn't have much time before a golden glow would begin to dust the city buildings. But he couldn't stay here with two men who wouldn't give a second though to killing him, one of whom wanted to take Buffy away, one of whom…was still eyeing Buffy.

"Hey you sons of bitches, shut up out there!" a man called from the door he'd just opened, poking his head into the hallway. Both Spike and Angelus were still in game face, and both simultaneously let out a tiny, primal roar, causing the man to skitter back inside. Those with Vampire hearing could hear his hands shake as he locked every possible lock on his door.

"Give her to me, Spike," Giles said in a warning tone.

"I'll take the girl," Angelus licked his lips. One of them was behind him, one of them was in front of him, and he didn't think he could fight them both off and still protect Buffy. He gritted his teeth, knowing what he had to do.

"Don't let him take you too far," he whispered to her. She frowned, not understanding the instructions, but he had already whirled around and shoved her to Giles. He turned back to Peaches, knowing the Protector would keep her safe while he deterred the Poof. The elevator closed behind him, Buffy's voice shrieking at Giles who had an unyielding grip on her.

He cracked his knuckles, staring down his elder. It had been a long time since he and Angelus faced each other alone like this. Many times they'd fought for the amusement of the ladies, or squabbled over a plan with their fangs. But they stood facing each other, smirking, in a deserted hallway, and Spike felt his guts heavy. It just added to the feeling that this would be a fateful moment. Was Aurelius Master Liam Angelus finally going to kiss the stake? Or would he, William the Bloody, be reduced only to a legend?

"Alone at last, Spikey. It's been awhile." Spike nodded, as the two began to circle each other, despite the smallness of the hallway. "How you complicate my unlife. I was going to take you and the girl prisoner, so I could torture you by inflicting pain on the both of your bodies and minds. Now you've sent her off, and I'll have to extend effort to collect her. Unlike collecting you." Spike snarled. So he wouldn't take any bloody effort, eh? Perhaps Angelus hadn't calculated, but it had been nearly fifty years since their last could-have-been fateful battle. Yes, he'd been easily bested then. But in the time since then, he'd traveled on his own, palled around with some of the more feared North American Vampires, been Master of his own flock of minions, and, of course, fallen in love. His cold blood boiled when he heard Peaches talk about torturing Buffy, just to get to him. He had a cause, and that gave him all the strength he needed to take down Angelus. The older Vampire had no cause other than vengeance for the sake of alleviating boredom, probably.

The elevator dinged, and opened to reveal three giggling, tipsy, overly made-up women in tight, shiny dresses. They tripped between Angelus and Spike, not noticing the funny masks the men were wearing, heading for their trashy abode. Spike had never noticed them on this floor before, and if he had to guess he'd say they would probably have to wander a few more floors before finding the right one. Angelus studied the elevator, clearly in agreement with Spike that the hallway was not the place for such a battle as was now upon them. Stepping into the contraption, Spike wordlessly behind them, he pushed the button for the Roof. Squinting at the button panel, Spike wondered what games the old Grandsire was playing. Guess they'd find out.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

The elevator door slid open to reveal an empty hallway. Buffy jogged past the initial landing, down towards where their home for the past week-and-a-half had been. Giles scurried after her, limping.

"What in God's name has gotten into you?" he hissed angrily. After pulling her down to the ground level, Spike's orders had kicked in, and she'd screamed to a group of passing, biker-looking guys that the old guy was trying to rape her. Not the most upstanding gentlemen, but they'd still sort of come to her rescue, and swung a heavy leg in Giles' direction before continuing on their way. She'd waited the longest fifteen minutes of her life in the small, dingy excuse for a lobby (the only piece of furniture was a bench, and the only thing on the walls were mailboxes), Giles grumbling beside her, slapping him away every time he tried to take hold of her. She'd grown sicker and sicker at heart with ever passing minute, hoping Spike was alright. Peaches was different from any of the other Vampires she'd run into while hanging with Spike recently. He carried himself differently. She was Spike's biggest fan when it came to his fighting skills, but something settled in her chest, telling her that said skills might not match up against Peaches. She finally couldn't wait any longer, and summoned the elevator.

"Buffy, please just explain what's going on! Why are you with Spike, and why won't you come willingly with me? Is it some kind of thrall? I've read of such things, but Spike seems too tactless to know how they are accomplished." She sighed and tapped her foot. The elevator was taking forever. Spike could be a pile of dust by now, and the only thing worse than his being a pile of dust, was the not knowing if he was a pile of dust or not. "Buffy! You are not going back up there!"

"I have to see if Spike's alright. Would you just leave me alone, Giles? This isn't really your business."

"Not my-" Giles gasped indignantly. "I am a Protector! I slay creatures like Spike and Angelus! Of course it's my business! What I can't figure out is how you would come to the conclusion that it's YOUR business!" She clicked her teeth anxiously, rubbing the bite marks on her neck.

"If you must know, Spike and I are in love. And he's no longer the Sunnydale Vampire Master, so he's not your job anymore." Giles stared at her, bug-eyed.

"Can you repeat what you just said?" he asked in an incredulous voice.

"Spike is not your problem anymore. He's gone from Sunnydale for good."

"No, not that, the part about you and Spike being in love." The elevator opened, and she quickly stepped inside.

"Clearly, you heard me the first time." She held him at bay as the doors closed, thanking for once the crappy construction of the building that hadn't budgeted for those doors that wouldn't close should something be in their way. She drew her hands back into the elevator, and pushed the button for the seventh floor. Giles stood stunned on the other side for a minute, then sprinted for the stairs.

"In love...in love my ass," he panted as he ran up the flights. It had to be a thrall. He had no idea how they worked, had assumed they were mere legend as no one had ever presented a victim of such unnatural crime, but it appeared they were existent and kicking.

He reached the seventh floor, stumbling into the hallway as he saw Buffy exit the door he'd kicked open earlier. She looked panicked.

"Giles, they're not here!" He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was too soon. "Track them," she ordered bossily.

"Buffy, we need to-"

"Track them!" she screamed, more upset than he'd ever seen her.

"No." She held up her hand, and he saw the poor light from the grimy ceiling bulbs glint off a knife she had grabbed from her kitchen seconds ago. He gasped at the steely look in her eyes.

"Do it Giles. I love you, but I have to know where he is. I'll do anything to find out, please don't doubt that." Tears gathered in her eyes as she threatened the man who had been so good to her, rescuing her, teaching her, being kind to her, her mother, and her friends. But Spike's face swam across her vision. She hadn't found any dust. But she was deathly afraid that somewhere unknown to her, there was dust. Her veins were thudding in her head, and the scar on her neck was for some reason reverberating with each throb. Or maybe it was just her imagination. "Please, Giles!" her voice cracked.

Giles stared, almost believing that the girl in front of him was not Buffy after all. But the tears welling in her green eyes, those he recognized so well, told him differently. After a minute of standing still, she broke down, dropping the knife to the floor, her body following as she sank to her knees and sobbed.

"I can't do it! I can't hurt you!" He moved forward and got down on the floor with her, after carefully tossing the knife aside. He held open his arms, and she crawled into them. "What if he's dead, Giles? Why won't you find him for me?" Her behavior confused him immensely. The stories he'd heard about enthrallment had never said anything about the desperate amount of caring he had just witnessed. Yes, they told of dark obsession, but frequently the one under the thrall helped contribute to the death of their subconsciously hated captor, so long as they hadn't been ordered not to. The women in the stories frequently staked their masters, but then kept the dust as close to their person as possible for the rest of their life. Buffy didn't seem to have any secret loathing of Spike. He was confused, and it was probably against his better judgement, but he withdrew from his breast pocket a trinket like the one Wesley had been carrying earlier.

"He's alive," he muttered to Buffy. There are two dots above us," he ascertained after studying it for a minute. His original plan had just been to reassure Buffy, but the second she heard 'above us' she was out of his arms and running for the elevator. The "R" button had always just been there, probably rarely used if ever, but the roof would allow plenty of space for a Vampire fight, or at least more than the hallway or their living room. Giles screamed after her, but the doors closed. Cursing again, still limping, he headed for the stairs.


	20. Chapter 20

**This is the last chapter. I think it's pretty obvious from the plotline itself, but here it is. It wasn't always number one on my to-do list, but writing this story was a reward unto itself, and the reviews from you wonderful, wonderful people were the icing on the cake. I'd like to know what you thought of this story, overall, or just this chapter. Some people may not like this chapter, but I felt it fitting. Call it an angsty ending, or call it happily-ever-after, I hope you enjoyed reading the story that I so enjoyed writing. Thank you for your time. **

Spike lunged at Angelus' throat, but was batted away by a bloody fist. Spike grinned, though it connected steadily with his forehead. He had been the one to rip the skin of Peaches' knuckles not five minutes ago.

Their fight was progressing slightly in Spike's favor. This seemed to shock Angelus, but he didn't let it affect his movements, only his expression. Both had multiple bruises, cuts, gashes and bites all over their body. Neither had been armed when they'd first come up, but broken furniture littering the space had provided makeshift stakes for both. The space they lunged in was not the outdoor roof, but a dark, empty floor with odds and ends dating back to the earliest days of the building, all dirty and dusty. The only light came from grimed-over windows, not enough to burn the Vampires, and a door much like a basement-to-outside door that, after climbing a few concrete steps, led up to the outside roof. The beams of sunrise slipping through those cracks were quite evident in the dark room, like golden laser beams, and the two had to be careful to avoid them. So far, Spike had singed his thigh on one, so it became an even more complex dance. But what a dance it was!

Angelus swung his stake, but Spike dodged, brushed past his side, and kicked him backwards to the floor. Turning and holding his stake over Angelus, the older Master had already rolled away, and was nearly behind Spike. A quick jump on an unsteady crate remedied that, and he jumped at Angelus, kicking him in the face, his stake hitting the Poofter in the shoulder.

He was winning, when he felt the presence. No, turn around! Run away! he cried silently, but it was too late. The elevator around the corner opened, and at any second Buffy would come into view. Angelus sensed it too, and darted towards the new arrival.

"No!" ripped from his throat, aloud this time. He managed to slip past Angelus and stand in front of Buffy, who had a giant smile on her face as she took him in.

"Spike!" she nearly cooed, not getting that this was NOT the time.

"I admit, Spike, I have no idea what's going on here. I normally pride myself on knowing and seeing all, but this time, this girl, this behavior, I am completely thrown. I can't figure out why you're living with a human, why you've bitten her but not turned her, or why you're protecting her now..." his voice faded off as he blinked a few times. "Or maybe I can. Don't tell me...William the Bloody has fallen for a human!" Spike growled, Buffy glared from behind him, putting her hands on her hips, and Angelus roared with laughter. "Oh, Dru and Darla are going to shriek like hyenas when they hear about this! Spike...and a human girl! I always knew you were unconventional, but this takes the cake, boy!" He continued to laugh, and Spike readied himself for a quick attack. But as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and Peaches positioned himself to lunge.

To their left, a door opened, and the exhausted Protector stumbled out of it, holding a cross in front of him. Spike looked at him, and it was all the distraction Angelus needed. He leaped, pushed Spike aside. Spike stumbled. It was enough for Angelus' move to succeed. His hands latched onto Buffy's neck, and a sickening snap could be heard by all in the room. She crumbled to the floor as Spike screamed, not in rage, not in attack, not words of any kind, but just a scream of disbelief and immediate pain that he knew already would never leave. He threw himself at Angelus, no longer playing both the offensive and defensive. He didn't care about himself beyond staying around long enough to shove a splinter through the Devil's heart, harder and harder he struck, tears he didn't know he could still create causing him to miss ever few blows, but overall striking Angelus again and again.

"I was planning to draw her death out, but when I realized what a fool you actually were, to have developed genuine feelings for her, I figured it would be more fun this way. It was." All of Angelus' words were said between dodging and striking, a causal smirk on his face, as he tried to hide the effort avoiding Spike really took. He found himself pushed backwards to the floor, both of his hands crushed by Spike's boots, the blood from Spike's nose he had brought forth by punching him squarely dripping down into his eyes, a chair leg inches from his heart. For the first time in his unlife, Angelus feared for it.

"Well, boy, it appears you win. What do you want? LA? Drusilla? Anything? It's yours. You've bested me. You are Aurelius now." Spike growled.

"No."

"Well, you can't kill me, obviously. I've offered you everything you've ever wanted. I know how to tempt you Spike. Power. Power, you'll have if you let me up now." He smirked, more genuine this time. Spike would always be Spike, just the runt of the litter who wanted to be boss. There was no need to worry about him going crazy and actually staking Angelus. But for some reason, he wasn't being called off.

"Darla's sire is long dead, and I outclaimed her. Now you've outclaimed me. You're a Line Master, William." Spike continued to stare. Finally, he spoke.

"Did you even know her name?" he asked, hoarsely. Both Giles and Angelus stared at him, Angelus from his vulnerable position, Giles from the teenage girl's body that he cradled, weeping quietly at his failure. He stared at her glassy eyes, still teary from just a few minutes ago. Angelus was silent to his question. "Her name is Buffy. Say it. Say Buffy."

"...Buffy," Angelus muttered, still confused as to Spike's behavior.

"Say it louder!"

"Buffy."

"Louder!"

"Buffy!"

"LOUDER!"

"BUFFY!" Angelus screamed, not liking the look in Spike's eyes.

"I hope that name rings in your ears all the way to Hell!" The chair leg descended the few inches necessary to pierce Angelus' heart, and Spike stood on a pile of dust. Kicking it off his shoes, he turned to Buffy's body. His eyes traveled painfully over her from head to toe, before he approached the Protector holding her.

"Back!" Giles gasped, holding up his cross again. Spike sat down beside them.

"Rupert, that tiny thing doesn't scare me." He stroked Buffy's blonde head, remembering having had to wait an extra ten minutes for her to blow dry it earlier that night, before they could go out on the town. What fun they'd had, just the two of them surrounded by a faceless crowd, dancing together like they'd never get the chance to dance again. And they wouldn't now, he realized. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes, and silently sent a prayer up to the heaven that had rejected him.

'Yea, I know I'm not your favorite bloke, but she just was with me. She's a good one, you know that. She belongs up there. She really does. She deserves wings and a halo and a harp and whatever else you have, just please don't send her where there are any more of my kind.' He took a deep, unnecessary breath, wanting to stay and look at her fallen form forever, but simultaneously wanting to put as much distance between her corpse and him as possible. Giles had lowered the cross, and was now staring at him in disbelief.

"It isn't possible," he heard the Protector mumble. Spike raised his eyes to him.

"I'm sorry, Rupert. I tried." And failed, he added silently to himself. He was a failure. Nothing had ever been so important to him as making sure that Buffy was safe, and he'd failed at that task. He wasn't fit for anything else. He didn't want anything else. Bending down and brushing his lips against her forehead, he stood up and walked through the sunbeams, smoke drifting lazily off him where they struck.

Rupert Giles had studied Vampire behavior for over half of his life. He had read every book he could find, had observed those Vampires under his watch, had trusted that he and his fellow Protectors completely understood who Vampires were and what it was that made them tick. But as he saw the blonde Vampire who had plagued him for so long open the doors to the illuminated roof, the golden sunrise bathing him for a minute in glowing light, before 126 years were reduced to ashes floating leisurely to the floor, he realized how little he had actually ever known about their species.

RIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIPRIP

Buffy didn't have any tell-tale marks of death on her, apart from a very loose neck, so it had been easy to carry her like he would carry a drunken girl. He'd gotten her back to the Council building, and had thrown out all the details he cared to at Wesley, trusting him to make the Protector report while he got Buffy back to Sunnydale. Wesley hadn't quite understood his hurried words. Murder-murder-suicide? Two Vampires slain, Giles not having played a part in either of them? Interspecies love? Wesley tentatively wrote the report, but decided not to send it to London until he had a discussion with a more coherent Rupert Giles.

With Buffy's body reclining in the backseat, a blanket over her to give the appearance of sleeping in case other drivers wondered why the man in glasses had a lifeless girl in his car, Giles sped back to Sunnydale. Back to Joyce. How would he ever explain this to her? He couldn't tell his girlfriend who it was that had really killed Buffy. He didn't think he could face Joyce at all. But he'd have to be there for her when they 'discovered' the body in the lake Giles knew he had to leave her in, as he couldn't just carry a dead girl to the police. She'd died a normal enough death, and though the coroners would have a hard time explaining the pre-mortem bite marks that hadn't been the cause of her heath, he thought that this could work. Just another Sunnydale murder. Another he'd failed to prevent, though this time he was far too emotionally attached to sigh and go about his business. First Kendra, now Buffy. He needed to stop getting involved with girls. It only led to him having to cover up their murders. He needed to get away again, as he'd done with Kendra. He sighed as he reached the Sunnydale city limits. He'd stay a little while for Joyce, but then see if the council could transfer him some place else. Some place where little girls with big eyes and a talent for slaying creatures of the night were in short supply.

Family and friends mourned the loss of the girl they loved. For Giles, it was more personal. He'd been training her. Theoretically, just for self-defense, but always in the back of his mind, as he watched her corner him with a blunt stake, had been the thought of more. He didn't want her to become a Protector. It was too dangerous. But at the same time, he'd always known that if she did...he'd be proud. Really proud. And though the Council didn't even know of her existence, she had died at the hands of one of the creatures she'd slain in a graveyard one night. That made her a Protector in his eyes, and when he made his trip to London to explain the strange report Wesley Wyndam-Pryce had finally sent in, with his own comments questioning Rupert Giles' mental health scribbled in the margins, he would make sure she went down in the book of fallen Protectors.

Buffy had avidly kept a diary when she was younger, but when she was older, the habit had been reduced to merely gluing important items into the book. Awards, pictures, little white slips of paper with fortunes written on them, notes, and such. She'd written nothing about her Vampish activities. She'd written nothing about the kidnapping. The only thing in the book that was supposed to bear her soul that actually reflected the life few had known she led was a photocopied picture of a mean-looking man with white-blonde hair. The man she'd ran away with, everyone assumed. The man who had killed her through blunt trauma to her cute, little, birdlike-neck. There was a warrant out for the strange man's arrest, though he would never be found. All that was left of him Giles had gathered up in LA and taken back with him. When he came to visit Buffy's fresh grave one night, instead of leaving flowers like all her other well-meaning mourners had (her grave was the most floral in the cemetery, as far as he could tell), he sprinkled dusty ashes over the ground, over the tomb stone, over every surface nearby.

He still didn't know why it had happened. Why an innocent human girl and a ferocious Vampire Master had cosmically been thrown together, with the results buried in front of him. He had never heard of it happening before. He doubted it would happen again. But the incident refused to sit with him as 'senseless' or 'random.' It had to have a purpose. Maybe he was just telling himself that to ease the pain of Buffy's tragic death, but he couldn't believe that such an unprecedented thing could happen for no reason at all. He would never know the reason. But he was almost positive that there was one.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

It was very bright. Annoyingly bright. Too bright. He clearly couldn't be out in the sun, for obvious reasons, but when had he stumbled into the million-watt bulbed room? Groaning, he opened his eyes. The light was coming in through the lids anyway, so he might as well find out where he was, maybe try to shut those damn lights off and go back to sleep. Then he realized he wasn't tired. Nor was he hungry, or hurt, or sad, or happy, or anxious. He was just there. And he didn't really care where 'there' was. He looked around at his surroundings. As he'd suspected, they were bright.

He tried to stand up, but it seemed he was already standing. Shrugging, he took a step forward. No floor to speak of, only bright, but he moved. He padded leisurely around wherever he was, before noticing that someone had been walking beside him for quite a while. It was a girl with darker skin, a long braid, and a kind, but firm smile.

"Hello there," he greeted he pleasantly. He knew he'd never seen her before, but felt like he knew of her somehow.

"'lo, Spike. How are you doin'?" she asked.

"I'm quite fine, thanks for asking. Where am I, Miss?" She grinned.

"Someplace dat you dought you'd nev'r be." His eyes widened.

"Don't tell me! Why, I think I'm in heaven!" She giggled, clearly loving this part of her job.

"Dat you are, man. It's nice to fin'lly see you. We've been waiting a very long dime."

"How in the world did I get up here?" The girl pointed towards a patch of bright that had pictures on it. Bright pictures. He saw himself opening the doors to the roof, and watched his last moments with interest. "How about that."

"Spike, you are an odd one. We'd always knew dere was something diff'rent about you. And you proved us ride. You are nod like odher vampires. You did nod deserve dat life. No one does. My body died at de stake, but my soul was here. As was yours...would you like to meed him?" Spike raised his eyes at the man approaching. It was him, only with moppy brown hair, and a less bold gait than the one he now had.

"Spike," his self greeted him.

"Hello William," he answered, the bitterness he normally felt when he thought of his past self not present.

"Will'am has been here for a long time, but we did'nt dink you would do what you did. You rose above the bondar'ies of vampire. Your soul has been liv'ng here, but da two of you gets a reward. You get to make up Will'am's lost years. Where Spike walked, Will'am will now do it."

"I don't quite get it, I'm sorry." William now took over explaining.

"When someone is turned, their body walks the earth, while their soul goes to heaven. When the body dies, it goes to Hell. Except in our case, the only of its kind. There can't be the both of us Williams, the bloody awful poet, and the bloody vampire, walking around here. It defies the rules, and the rules just aren't defied. You won entrance to here with your love, bravo, but we cannot stay, so we shall go back to earth to live out the rest of what should have been both of our days as one. And when we die, the one that is the both of us shall come here." Spike blinked at the two in front of him.

"But...what if I don't want to go back to earth? It's not as bright as here, especially not without..." His words trailed off. The woman and William exchanged glances.

"Ah, she. She is around here somewhere...for now." Spike's heart lurched.

"No, she deserves to be here, let her stay!" The woman's eyes twinkled. For the first time, Spike realized that none of them were clothed, but it didn't seem to matter. No one was checking anyone out. It was comfortable, lacking lust, just pleasant.

"She loved dat who dey told her nod to love. She too gets a reward, says de Powers dat Be. She geds you, for a few dozen more years. She will be back, as will you. But earthly love and earthly relations are nod importand here. If you'd dink about id, you would realize. You two can have thad for a liddle while longer. Be happy, Will'am/Spike."

"Wait, I didn't get your name," he called to her, who was suddenly very far away. William beside him was looking around at the world which was becoming far less bright.

"My name is Kendra. Id was nice do fin'lly meed you!"

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

William stormed outside. How dare Cecily reject his loving words, when the intent behind them was the most real thing the spoiled little girl had eve heard! How dare they laugh at the words which flowed directly from his heart to his pen! How dare strangers be in his way when he was so clearly upset!

He turned around the view the three strangers who had just been in his path. He'd never seen them before, and was not all that interested in them, but a tiny voice inside his head said they were not going to turn around. Not that he had thought that would, but it was almost like watching a play he'd read, only upon seeing it the actors began a different scene than the one he had been unknowingly expecting.

He shook his head. He was being silly. He continued to tear up the paper in his hand, flinging scraps onto the ground, not caring if a Police saw him. He shrank to a dark alley and began to pace, wondering how to win Cecily's heart. He knew she'd just rejected him, but the thought of having no one to compose poetry to stung his artistic soul. Perhaps, he mused, that was the main motivation behind his love for her. She wasn't very nice, like the few people he chose to surround himself with. She was, of course, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, but he'd read that beauty was only skin deep. Perhaps it was true. Maybe he only did love her because she was beautiful, and inspired him to write beautiful poetry.

Still, the ache in his heart would not go away. He had never been so openly insulted. 'You're beneath me...' her words floated back to him. Angry, he kicked at the ground.

"Are you alright?" a musical voice came from behind him. He turned to see a blonde girl, dressed in a fancy gown, a fan held loosely in a tiny, pale hand, standing there, gazing at him.

"I wish to be alone, Madame," he grumbled. She took a step forward anyway, hesitantly.

"Was that your poem they were reading inside?" He looked at her, not wanting someone else to reject his work.

"Why do you ask?"

"It was very beautiful. My father is a poet. He would love it. I do too." William stared at the young beauty coming closer still. He'd never seen hair so golden, or skin so clear, or eyes so green!

"Th-thank you. I'm William. William Dasher."

"Elizabeth Winters," she said with an angelic smile, placing her little hand out for him to shake. "I saw you run out of the party, and felt awful. People are such uneducated fools these days. The wouldn't know beauty if it bit them in the rump." He raised his eyebrows at her cocky attitude.

"Most of my peers around here have been expertly schooled. You'd be hard pressed to find a BETTER educated group of young people."

"Educated in what? Nothing that matters, clearly." He gaped at her for a minute, and then smiled.

"You're witty."

"And beautiful," she said, somewhat bored now. "They always tell me I'm witty and beautiful. Second one cancels out the first, I suppose, making me bearable. So tell me I'm beautiful."

"Not beautiful...effulgent," he said quietly. She fit the word so much better than Cecily. She smiled.

"Would you like to go back to the party, William? I hope you can read me some more of your lovely poems."

"Most of them are at home," he said sheepishly. She took his arm bossily, like a girl used to getting what she wanted.

"Fine. To the party tonight, and to your home tomorrow so I can hear more of your lovely words."

"You-you really think my words are lovely?"

"Of course I do, but what matters is if you think they are." He waited a beat, and then replied.

"I know they are a bit rough, but they are jems none the less." She smiled again. Oh, what poetry he could compose to that smile alone! He smiled warmly back at her.

"Oh, your smile lights up your face! It's gleaming, William. You don't look like you smile much. You should. It's so perfectly handsome." He blushed and she laughed easily. "I can tell that you and I are going to be very good friends."

They re-entered the party, and many heads turned to see the blubbering fool walk in arm-and-arm with the enticing new girl. Her family had moved to the town only a few days ago, and most of the young men were trying to win her favor.

"It appears Elizabeth has fallen victim to William," one of the young men said to a companion. Shaking their heads, they moved to another group of people to mock the girl's poor taste.

Elizabeth and William. Buffy and Spike. Whatever. Whenever. However. Forever.

The End


End file.
